June Challenge, Chapter 2: June 4-7
unedited, flash fiction, june challenge
Published on:
Jun. 5, 2008, 2:51amWord Count:
3211Last Edited:
Jun. 8, 2008, 12:47amWork Description
Month-long daily unedited flash fiction challenge.
See "June Challenge" circle or "June:A Challenge" thread on Community forums for details.
Chapter Description
The Box: A Dinner Meeting
The Typewriter: My attempt at writing something even moderately descriptive.
The Sentence: Skyler takes matters into his own hands
Carol: There's been an accident
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but he was a nice guy.
"New typewriter. Just bought it." I could feel myself grinning like a little kid. I really was excited to finally have the thing all to myself.
"Doesn't look so new to me..." he commented as he walked into the elevator and pushed the button for his floor. I chuckled as the door closed. Sometimes it was best just to humor him.
When I got to my door, I finally put the typewriter down to get my keys out of my pocket. I had never been so happy to see my ugly, yellow, peeling door. Once I was inside, I headed to my desk. I shoved a whole-puncher and a stapler out of the way so I could unload my burden.
FInally, I thought. I can write.
I inserted a clean, white piece of paper and adjusted the knobs until I could see the top of it poking out above the keys. Before typing, I took a second to look at my newly-aquired prize. It was beautiful. The keys were a shiny smooth black. I pushed the space key, and it made that amazing clicking sound that can only come from an old, clunky typewriter. The base was the kind of tan that looked like it used to be white, but I thought it was perfect. I placed my hands on the keys and marveled at how at home my fingers felt.
I'll take this over a computer any day, I thought, as a began to type.
2226 6/5/08
The Sentence
If I ever quit this job, I'm never going to get the smell of pizza out of this car, I thought to myself as I turn toward the house of my last delivery for the night. The driveway was unpaved. I eased up to the garage, praying the rocks wouldn't scratch my paint. I pulled up the parking brake, turned off the ignition, and grabbed the guys order off the passenger seat. As I walked up to the front door, I realized the entire street was pitch black. Not a single house had a light on, inside or out. In fact, it looked as though the houses were deserted.
There was no doorbell. I hated when there was no door bell. That meant I had to knock, typically repeatedly.
I prepared to knock, but the door opened before my hand even touched it. The security chain was still engaged.
"You the pizza guy?" came a voice from the narrow opening.
"Yes sir. Pizza Shack. Forty minutes or less. It's been... twenty-three. You gonna open up?"
The door slammed shut. I could hear the chain scraping against its casing. The door swung open.
"Come in, come in. I've got to get you some money." It was more of a snarl than a voice. There was a light on somewhere down a hall, but it seemed to be the only illumination in the entire house. The single dim light created a sort of backlit effect. His entire body was a shadow.
"Sir, I'm not supposed to enter your house. I can wait here while you grab the cash." Besides, I thought, you're freaking creepy.
"Get inside kid. It's dark out."
Honestly, it was dark out. It was pitch black, and I didn't like it. Against my better judgment, I went inside.
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I agree with Laurie -- great work here! You have a lot of great ideas and they're all really welly fleshed out.
Cool. I want to see what you come up with next. ( :
Hey dnm,
"I'm not here alone, Stan. I'm Sharon. My boyfriend will be hear in(watch check)"about ten minutes. What brings you here all by yourself?"
Having always loved all things nostalgic and meaningful, the second I walked through the door, I wanted to live in that smell forever.
Whatchyou got there, 5B?
FInally, I thought. I can write.
I started to walk toward it-------------------and then I woke up.
The florescent lights were such a contrast from the black basement then I couldn't see anything.
By the time I reached the hospital, I was practically hyperventilating.
i really like what you've put together here. i think your story has grit. Which is something I rather like in stories. i want to know more about the characters and would like to read more of this if you keep the storyline going.
As far as your descriptive writing style goes, it reads pretty smoothly. There are a couple of things you could polish a bit, some has already been mentioned.
The word 'here' is sometimes written as, 'hear'
In the end, you change voice. It begins to read as a memoir rather than in character--if that makes sense. When you describe the door and the base of the typewriter, it is more of a reflection and not so much the characters real time experience of it. You added distance by some of the words you chose, at least for me...I would suggest adding the word 'own' to the 'my door' phrase and consider a slightly more direct and intimate description of the feeling the typewriter gives, the sense of the base...
Finally, in the beginning, knowing already that you are focusing on description with this piece, I would love to have learned more about the typewriter itself. What made you fall in love with it? What brand was it?
Again, the realness of the scene was definitely depicted for me, I could smell the old guy and his shop...even though you didn't mention smell, and I felt a thickness to the air that is usually found in such places...which in my opinion makes your descriptors just right (in other words you didn't over or under do it).
Louise
wow! i mean, really...wow! these daily stories are remarkable, and read as very polished even as first drafts. you've got some typos/misspellings, but those're easily fixed in edits. original ideas, smooth, engaging writing style, and a penchant for drawing readers in. i'll be back to critique when i have the appropriate amount of time, but i wanted to comment. really impressive work!