The Storm - Page 3


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Thread: The Storm

  1. #21
    Quote Originally Posted by DATo View Post
    A very beautiful, and exquisitely delivered short story! The song served as a nice catalyst to tie the story together - I found that to be a particularly creative and effective device.

    No criticisms ... nicely done ... and thank you for sharing!
    +1. Wonderful! Well written, well told.
    Her: I love my computer! All of my friends are in there!
    Me: Yeah, I was thinking the same thing about my freezer...
    Her: What?
    Me: What?

  2. #22
    I enjoyed the story. I didn't notice any overt grammar issues. My one critical comment is that I don't like that last 2 lines. The story gave me a "feeling" and the last two lines kind of undercut that feeling.

  3. #23
    I liked your imagery approach but would have been also interested to see more allusions to wind rather than rain. Your style of writing seems more conducive to wind as a weather feature; at the same time, your use of rain highlights your apparent interest in sensory memories.

  4. #24
    >>>
    My sister died over twenty years ago. All that time the trunk had been in the attic, like an evil landmine, waiting to explode and push me back into the pit of guilt.
    >>>

    Personally,
    I liked the 'evil landmine'. Sure, one could say all landmines are evil . . and it might not have been necessary.
    But, in trying to convey the characters feelings I think adding the evil works well.

    I found it worth reading.
    Josh.

  5. #25
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    Quote Originally Posted by egpenny View Post
    This is a bit of flash fiction written from a prompt of; flat tire, picture frame, crepe paper flowers. I'm fighting comma faults and run-on sentences. Please, any help or suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

    The Storm


    “It’s raining, It’s pouring, da-de-da, bumped his head, da-de-dum, something, something, in the morning.” That nursery rhyme was driving me crazy. Maybe instead of disjointed put in two lines of the verse. "It's raining, it's pouring... the old man is snoring." Grimacing I shook my head, but the old rhyme was like a burr. Since this morning, it had been driving me crazy. It always did this time of year.

    The windshield wipers were working hard to clear the water from the glass. The storm was torrential, and the rain easily overpowered the wipers feeble efforts. The road was empty, in front and behind the car. I was alone in my small, wet universe. Only the glow of the centerline in the headlights kept me on the road. Now, this silly rhyme was on my mind, taking my concentration away from driving. This is nice but it sort of repeats itself. This time of year was, after all, hurricane season. With no love of the sea, I still lived close enough to get battered with the dregs. Cool summer rain pounded against the roof. The wipers were nearly a blur as they struggled against the downpour. Painted black the roadway was almost invisible in the growing shadows. More than once the thought to pull over crossed my mind but still I kept going. It was better to get this done now, no point in waiting.

    I don’t know what possessed me to drive up here in the middle of the night. I could have stayed in my cozy, dry home until morning. I remembered then, the pushy offer of unwanted company from a cousin. This trip was personal; I needed to do this alone. Sort of works with the aspect of what I wrote in red better. However, is the presence of the cousin really necessary? It gives the sense that had the cousin not being present he wouldn't have come now -- maybe putting the trip off for a day or two. And he knows what "possessed him" - the noisy cousin. Oh I could have been at home. Warm, tucked up in front of the fire and maybe a glass of wine. A good book. I was halfway through Joe John's book Chaingang; whoever would have thought an ex-con could turn into such a good author. Must be his personal experiences; I'd found some of the best crime books were written by lawyers after all. But Chaingang was going to have to wait. Putting this off was out of the question. I owed her that much at least.

    A quick glance showed me the box was still on the passenger seat. I’d thought it had slid off when I’d driven around that last sharp curve. I saw the picture frame and the faded, dusty-pink, crepe paper flower roses were still there, convicting me with their presence. That old familiar twinge of guilt settled heavily on my shoulders. The weather's bad and yet he's glancing about and driving crazy around sharp turns. Nada. A flash of lightning in the distance lit up the car interior. On the passenger seat the box. Some part of me had hoped it had tumbled to the ground when I'd hit that pothole. Dang thing had come out of nowhere. But no it sat nestled between faded dusty pink crepe flowers [paper really isn't necessary, most should know what crepe paper is], mocking me. The edge of the picture frame was just visible in the mess. I swallowed. Whoever had said things got easier with time was an idiot.
    I may continue a bit later, I meant to continue but I'm starving right about now and lunch is being served.

  6. #26
    FoWF Aquarius's Avatar
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    A good story, well told - I would not change anything. It is so well related that I feel the events happened in real life. And the vision you saw at the end was a glimpse into our other world, the world of light, our true home, where Vicky and her boyfriend are happily united and dancing - to music of the spheres maybe. It was given to you as a reward for all the trouble you had taken to fulfil Vicky's last wish.

    With love - Aquarius

  7. #27
    Very great story. I'm very fascinated by the lack of character interaction through dialogue, yet still being able to tell a very visual and atmospheric story.

  8. #28
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    Very well done, i like your writing style.

  9. #29
    I enjoyed reading this piece. Very well written and presented. A fine effort in my view. Hope you don't mind my pointing out a missing apostrophe at the end of the word 'wipers' in the second paragraph. I look forward to seeing more of your work.
    Even though the darkest clouds are in the sky,
    You mustn’t sigh and you mustn’t cry.
    Spread a little happiness, as you go by.

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  10. #30
    Member wainscottbl's Avatar
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    My sister, there’d been just the two of us, no other siblings

    My sister, there’d been just the two of us, no other siblings
    This is a side remark, so it requires the old ---sidemark here-- or (sidemark here). Your choice of the line or partenthes

    My heart hurt at the memory
    typo alert: hurts

    He had died before Vickie, in an Arab land, far from home.
    Please use that in a poem. Not sure if this is based on reality, but use that in a poem. It's a very good line. Except is doesn't work here. The Gulf War or some war in the Middle East? He was a soldier? Tell us.

    Finally, the verdict: very moving, well written piece. Touched me at the end. It didnt make me cry, but it could have if I was disposed that way. I could really picture this and feel the emotion of the character. You painted a beautiful, melancholy picture. Good job!
    Check out my writing and other stuff
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    Also check out my new wine blog, J'adore le Vin
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