He buried the past in my heart; it will always remain as a master piece of true art. It was perfect, no mistake but I now sit in a place where light is forbidden. On my pale face tears dry on my cheeks like ice on top of a mountain. But round me, faces all lit up, looking bright and colourful like fireworks in the haunted sky at midnight. I see him in the middle. Standing where our last dance was meant to be; I see that he is searching for the answer to this riddle.
That’s when the memories of the forgotten, incomplete past came back to life in my deadly thoughts. I feel the warm wind rush round my neck and down to my feet then gone. He wasn’t gone and neither was I though the distance between us is increasing at a fast rate, too fast for me to catch up. I was holding a glass in my right unsteady hand with lemonade that was filled half way through. It was sweet but as soon as it enters my body it was turning into that pure ugly unwanted bitter taste. As I put down the glass on the table, I see him again with a smile on his face, pretending everything was alright when clearly the hurt in his eyes said - it just wasn’t.
Soon the booming music was changing to fit a missing piece of my life, the peaceful, placid side of it all. In my hand, I was holding the blue butterfly necklace he gave me and with it was my necklace that had my name. Both of them was tangle up with each other, I was trying to separate them but fail to and maybe that was a sign of how our lives should be. But fairy tale endings was made to give fake a meaning, with my life slowly speeding down the hill, without him trying to be an obstacle to stop it. I was unseen, unheard, unwanted, sitting there with an image of my broken past going round in my mind like a power point slide show. It was a pleasant feeling of being reminded of what used to be, made it seem that it was possible to get through this night. It didn’t last long, as my eyes saw him once again, a storm made the whole atmosphere shake apart then a sudden burst of silence . It was too late, his taken another path; left our past buried in my heart.
Hi Angel K,
ReplyDeleteI admire how you've created an atmosphere of loss, nostalgia, and a history within this extract. The similes you've used give the piece an added sense of sophistication and earn their place within the text, '...tears dry on my cheeks like ice on the top of a mountain.' The choice of ice and mountain create questions for me surrounding the character's place - did she grow up in the mountains? Why are they familiar to her? '...my broken past going round in my mind like a power point slide show.' Again feels original but does this reveal the context of her working life? If you were to expand this narrative you could give us the back-story and show the reader why these things are vivid to her, which would give them further depth.
I was very impressed by the second sentence: '...but now I sit in a place where light is forbidden.' I thought this particularly powerful. I also love how the lemonade in the second paragraph is used as a symbol of the connection between these two people - sweet and then bitter. This symbolism then appears to progress further with the entangling of the necklaces- again great visual stuff!
Though the symbol of the lemonade is great, you might want to reign in some of the additional descriptions, 'that pure ugly unwanted bitter taste.' Perhaps just 'that unwanted taste,' or that 'bitter taste' would suffice. I also thought that you could end the extract a sentence earlier as I think this would place further emphasis on the themes you've been exploring.
There is so much to admire here! I really enjoyed reading it! Many thanks.
Liz
Hiya
ReplyDeleteagain you have produced a piece that is strong on atmosphere & sense of mood. we get a strong feeling of the narrator's sadness and nostalgia seeping into everything here.
Again, though, my main suggestion is to give more attention to the actual drama and all that is going on outside the narrator's mind& emotions. While the latter is very interesting, a good piece of writing really needs both these dimensions to work. The sense of what's actually going on (where is she? why? is she alone? has she actually seen the guy again or is she just remembering him? why is she holding the necklaces?) is under-developed.
When you focus in on an external object, though, (the faces of other people, the necklaces, the lemonade), you do it very well and give a sense of colour and texture to the images. Nice work!
claire
Hey, Angel_K,
ReplyDeleteReally sorry to be so late commenting - I've been marooned away from internet for a few weeks. I'm glad to get to it now.
Your take on the song is, I think, great. The opening of the 'Floyd track could easily be a slow, last dance, and the following singing could well be the torment you describe. Your narrative floats between the hopeful and the painful. I want to capture that feeling better myself, and your ideas are inspiring.
I can see, and I'm sure you could too, that a good read through is necessary to iron out some grammar, and some tense issuses (like 'it was sweet but as soon as it *enters* my body it was *turning*...'). Mind you, I get the feeling that you've listened to the track and let that guide your writing, and I wouldn't want to talk you out of doing that - just have a read over when you're done.
Hope you have an ace summer. And I hope you write a bit during it too - even if it's just random notes. I did that for a whole summer before I got a burst of confidence with my writing (that was only three years ago though, so you'll have a head start on me). Take care,
Andy