#1
PROSE:

Right, my first prose piece to be posted on here, although not the first I've written. It's abit hard to digest because some of the stuff won't make much sense, because there is no story beforehand to refer to, but meh. Hope you enjoy and look forward to all your crits, critters. Plus, you will be returned. If not, then PM me or something, then I'll go and do it. Anyway, enough rambling, here it is.


She glances at the clock, but remembers time stops when you?re in love; the hands are still. She gazes at the wilted rose he left her and a petal drops majestically onto the placemat. The water in the vase is tinted orange and she can smell the faint odour of decay.

Her hands wrestle each other in her anxiety, and a chaffinch comes to the window, watching her with those tiny yet deep, dark eyes. Its head twitches one way then another before it darts away along the flagstones. It stops its hopping and takes off home.

He must?ve been away for a few days now. She tries to keep her emotions hidden and only barely succeeds. Her anguish is clawing at the marrow in her bones and she can feel her heart race. Where did he go? She can?t comprehend why he left, but left he did. She stifles a cry and reaches for a tissue, knowing all too well it will be needed. Grasping desperately to her suddenly lonely dreams, she stands up and plucks the rose out of its vase. She heads to the staircase and, with floorboards expressing their pain, goes upstairs.

The smell is putrid, a raw smell of death, but she?s used to it now. She?s lived here all her life, and never once has she been offended by the stench, for it is her own, but not from her body.

She slowly moves to the farthest door on the right and pulls the handle down. The aged springs shriek and their screams pierce the silence. Glooms of pleas come from behind the other doors, but she smiles them silent.

The door opens and she is blinded by the fierce sunlight. She enters the room and purposefully slams the door behind her and she can hear the agonised screams begging for mercy. But she ignores them, for they cannot hear her and she cannot fear them and together they live in an equilibrium rarely seen outside the confines of her abode.

In front of her is a set of sliding doors that enter on to a balcony, with terracotta paving, which shines a brilliant orange-red in the light of the sun. A crow is sitting on the rail but quickly flies away, as a raven descends from above and occupies the space formerly held by the crow. She shoos the raven away with a wave of her hand and a whip of her tongue and the bird complies.

She rests her hands on the railing, grips on to it tightly, and peers over the edge. A hundred-foot drop greets her. The sheer cliff face falls down to a rocky shore with waves crashing and foaming over them.

He?s not coming back.

She clutches the rose to her chest and swings her legs over the railing. Her right hand remains gripped on the rail. She lets go and leans forward, the rush of air ruffling her hair. In that short freefall, she feels at peace. There is no sound. There is no feeling. She?s flying with the birds and feels free. There is no sadness, no despair, and no anguish. The dying rose blooms a bright red once more. A bloody petal falls off and is blown by the wind across the red rock, to be carried away by the currents to somewhere else. And all is calm, serene. Birds sing their sickly lullabies and the world turns and the sun sets. And she is at peace once more.
#2
Well, I liked the first few stanzas the most then it started to trail off a bit towards the middle. The ending was predictable I thought. but it was still good. She is at peace once more. Wasn't necessarily predictable, but it wasn't that surprising to me. OVerall i thought it was decent but it was much stronger in the begining of the piece. The first two stanza had a certain flow to it that isn't all that common among prose pieces. It fit together well.
Can you see in the dark? Can you see the look on your face?
#3
Beautiful.

Edt: Wow, just did that spontaneously. But i guess my spontaneous me is right; that's the only way i could describe it. Certainly the best i've ever read from you.

Editedit: I've got a new piece up now, i'd be grateful for some time
Last edited by caz_guitar_dude at Aug 21, 2006,
#4
Yes, quite possibly one of the best pieces I'e seen from you. It's certainly up there somewhere.


I'll just try and point out a couple of things I didn't get on board with:

The smell is putrid, a raw smell of death, but she?s used to it now. She?s lived here all her life, and never once has she been offended by the stench, for it is her own, but not from her body

This kind of came in really suddenly, and I didn't really understand why. I think this was one of the things that wasn't going to make much sense.

She clutches the rose to her chest and swings her legs over the railing. Her right hand remains gripped on the rail. She lets go and leans forward, the rush of air ruffling her hair. In that short freefall, she feels at peace. There is no sound. There is no feeling. She?s flying with the birds and feels free. There is no sadness, no despair, and no anguish. The dying rose blooms a bright red once more. A bloody petal falls off and is blown by the wind across the red rock, to be carried away by the currents to somewhere else. And all is calm, serene. Birds sing their sickly lullabies and the world turns and the sun sets. And she is at peace once more.

this final stanza I thin kyou may have got a bit tied up with all the ideas. For example, you say "there is no sound" but then talk about singing birds.... And "there is no feeling" but she feels free.. but then maybe they were on purpose and I'm just missing the point... oh well..

Great stuff. Keep it coming.

If you want, my latest is in my sig. Many thanks.
#5
I liked it, was pretty good writing and it's nice to see you step into prose

I'm gonna point out some things that I think could be strengthened about it:

firstly, well, I'm not keen on the present tense you use. It sounds somewhat less formal than were it imperfect tense, like the norm. This tale you've created is so beautiful that I feel the present tense kind of ruins it a little. Just IMO though.

next, on bits such as this:
The smell is putrid, a raw smell of death, but she?s used to it now. She?s lived here all her life, and never once has she been offended by the stench, for it is her own, but not from her body.
I feel you're only scraping the top of the barrel there. This is a wonderfult hing to write about, yet you've only given it 2 sentences and amde it a whole stanza in this piece? Expand! You barely touch the surface of description and imagery before moving on to something else, which just makes it sound like you're rushing tbh. Lol, tkae a breath, slow it down, and expand! These sentences are good, but after reading them you suddenly leave them as though you hate them and never want to touch them again lol.

This is not in sequence lol, but I just reread it and shall include it here before I forget again:
She gazes at the wilted rose (first paragraph)... IMO "gazes" is not the right word. It makes it sound like she's daydreaming which is all very well, but you go on to contradict this later with the darkness of the piece. I just don't think it's right.

he stifles a cry and reaches for a tissue- I really really really don't like this inclusion of "tissue". You have created such a wondrous piece of archaic beauty ehre, and then you go and ruin it with a modern invention such as the tissue! haha well not ruin it, but seriously... I was imagining this beautiful, perhaps mediterranean, grange or manor or something with a beautiful lady caught in time by her abscent lover, but then she grabs a kleenex and it's all a commercial! Haha seriously, please please please lose that! get rid of the tissue! Haha.

Glooms of pleas- corretc me if I'm wrong... but it almsot sounds like you're meaning "glooms" as a quantity. I really don't follow this, as "gloom" is like, not that lol. The phrase doesn't make sense IMO.

In front of her is a set of sliding doors- no offence... but there sure as hell are a lot of doors in this palce. Only the stanza before she's already gone through a door... I feel you're cramping your ideas a bit, and would suggest editing this.

And all is calm, serene- use a semi-colon instead of a comma IMO.

That is all. Excellent job, I thoroughly enjoyed reading and critting this
Quote by Kensai
Maybe you've heard what the ladies say: "Once you go 77mm you don't go back"
#7
furtherfan21 - Thanks for that, and I agree somewhat that it was stronger at the beginning, because when I wrote that, I had an idea of what I was doing. By the end I was just stringing things together somewhat.

Callum - Thanks for the look, I'll have a look at yours tomorrow, tonight I'll blackdot it.

Jammy - For the final stanza first, the lack of sound and feeling I try and attribute that to the motion of her body and the way she feels when she's in freefall. Once her freefall stops, then all the sounds come back for the narrative. And for the other stanza you quoted, yes it does come up a bit strong and is very sudden, but so is what I'm describing.

Alice - I've been very tempted to actually write some half decent prose and this is the first one I managed that I thought would be good enough for here. Firstly I'll look to expand the smell stanza (not right now though, I'm used to going off to bed at about 10 or 11 so I'm very tired) so I will have a look at that in the morning and make some revisions. The same goes for most of the other stuff you noticed not quite right. I used glooms of please because I wanted it to be the opposite of a rhapsody of please (rhapsody is more of a positive word, whereas the cries were of a negative nature). It's rare to use a word like gloom in that sense, but it is correct grammatically at least, even if not aesthetically.

Merkalos - Thanks for taking the time to have a look through this.

Everyone - Greatly appreciated