Young Writers Society

Every day falls into a comfortable, familiar routine. The alarm rings at 7:30, I hit snooze and sleep in until 8:00. Sit up, stretch, squint at the sunlight seeping through the curtains. My bathroom tiles are cold and toothpaste stings my lips. The face in my mirror gives me the same tired expression, asking why I stayed up so late the night before. I've never been able to give him a decent answer.

I put the cleanest clothes I can find on my back and step downstairs. There's nothing but static on the TV; the same hypnotic blizzard of white noise on every channel. Joey barks, demanding his breakfast; I pour out his food and then pour out my own, and the two of us eat together in the soft quiet of the morning.

It's so warm out and the sun is so bright and feels so fresh. Joey waddles along on squat legs, his jowls wobbling with each bow-legged step. It's such a nice day for a walk. We take our regular route up the hill, Winding through flowering trees saturated with the scents of spring.

There are no squirrels, no rabbits to chase; a disappointment for Joey. No other dogs or other people to greet along the way Flocks of birds glide above, heading abroad in great droves, their timepieces running months ahead of regular.

We reach our end, the peak of our path; the valley below laid out before us. Joey pants; catching his breath, cooling down. I press a cigarette to my lips and take a deep breath. It's so hot.

They are across the valley, nearly beyond the ridge of our sight. They could be any other part of the landscape, a pylon, a turbine, some grand metallic construct. Their long slender legs move slowly, unsure of the earth upon which they step. They look almost graceful, the movements so smooth and slick. We can hear the echoes of their creaks and groans, steel sliding against steel as they move through the mist.

It's so hot and here we are, me and Joey, in our halo of pure blue and the last of the sun in our eyes, holding our breath as the sky burns away.

No need to worry about the dust and the cobwebs! This was a pretty neat little piece here. The simplicity in it was what I admired most. How you were able to tell such a story in so few words. It had a great beginning and an even more beautiful ending. The only thing I have to point out was that you missed a period here:

. . .the way Flocks. . .

Should there not be a period between "way" and "flocks"?

Anyway, the photograph in the spoiler was an awesome addition. Your inspiration was lovely. I like the other pictures in that link as well. Photoshop? Well, great job here. I enjoyed reading this.

Hello there!

This was absolutely fantastic, you need to wipe away those cobwebs for good. This flowed beautifully, I loved the mystery of the ending and the imagery that you used throughout the story.

The only thing I had a problem with would be this paragraph:

It's so warm out and the sun is so bright and feels so fresh. Joey waddles along on squat legs, his jowls wobbling with each bow-legged step. It's such a nice day for a walk. We take our regular route up the hill, Winding through flowering trees saturated with the scents of spring.

At first I was extremely confused by the fact that you begin talking about how Joey walks because for some reason I thought that the main character was in the house still, looking out the window. Also, I'm not a fan of the repetition of "so" in the first sentence. Maybe to clear up all the confusion you could change it to:

The heat of the bright sun beats on my neck, it feels so fresh. Joey waddles along on squat legs, his jowls wobbling with each bow-legged step. It's such a nice day for a walk. We take our regular route up the hill, winding through flowering trees saturated with the scents of spring.

Or something similar.

Overall, excellent job with this. Let me know if you have any questions and also you need to keep writing! This was just so beautifully done.
-Once

Oy, I've always loved your work, Tinny. ^_^

This, 'tis so mellow in cadence, and keeps the low-key in its dictions--even, small words. But there's something fraught beneath. What isn't said feels like

the sky [that] burns aways

. Sans the understatement and simplicty, it would have naught to go on--another piece peddling apocalypse or scientific pallor.

It is short, and thus I've not reams to say. The only things that straggled me slightly in reading were rhythm within the punctuation at a certain point, and the last sentence of the first paragraph.

Every day falls into a comfortable, familiar routine. The alarm rings at 7:30, I hit snooze and sleep in until 8:00. Sit up, stretch, squint at the sunlight seeping through the curtains. My bathroom tiles are cold and toothpaste stings my lips. The face in my mirror gives me the same tired expression, asking why I stayed up so late the night before. I've never been able to give him a decent answer.

I quite like the impression, and the tangible image, of the drawn features, and the character unable to answer--or unwilling to answer--his worn look. But to agree with the verb, it ought to be give it a decent answer--his face, not himself, da?

I put the cleanest clothes I can find on my back and step downstairs. There's nothing but static on the TV; the same hypnotic blizzard of white noise on every channel. Joey barks, demanding his breakfast; I pour out his food and then pour out my own, and the two of us eat together in the soft quiet of the morning.

It is a piece full to the brim with semi-colons. They make apt transitions in light of the rather understated, sliding sense in the prose. But I think some variation might do the piece good for clarity.

In the italicised bit, perhaps try an em-dash then? The bit separated by the semi-colon is a dead fragment, and it feels like it just blends together with the rest. It needs an em-dash. Or to be full-stopped and set on its own fragmented legs. ^_^

As to the rest, I'd comb it for semi-colons, tracing where they serve and where, perhaps, they're simply afterthoughts or habit.

It's so warm out and the sun is so bright and feels so fresh. Joey waddles along on squat legs, his jowls wobbling with each bow-legged step. It's such a nice day for a walk. We take our regular route up the hill, winding through flowering trees saturated with the scents of spring.

There are no squirrels, no rabbits to chase; a disappointment for Joey. No other dogs or other people to greet along the way Flocks of birds glide above, heading abroad in great droves, their timepieces running months ahead of regular.

We reach our end, the peak of our path; em-dash? the valley below laid out before us. Joey pants; comma?catching his breath, cooling down. I press a cigarette to my lips and take a deep breath. It's so hot.

Watch the above--I rather like the so's in the first sentence. Almost silly, but they give the character a distinct voice. Repetitious could creep in.

They are across the valley, nearly beyond the ridge of our sight. They could be any other part of the landscape, a pylon, a turbine, some grand metallic construct. Their long slender legs move slowly, unsure of the earth upon which they step. They look almost graceful, the movements so smooth and slick. We can hear the echoes of their creaks and groans, steel sliding against steel as they move through the mist.

This is the bit that struck me most--ominous and haunting.

It's so hot and here we are, me and Joey, in our halo of pure blue and the last of the sun in our eyes, holding our breath as the sky burns away.

Oy, and that would be it, Tinny. ^_^ The ending is open and closed in the best of senses.


IMP