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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a few miles. Traffic was horrendous. By the time I reached the
hospital, I was practically hyperventilating. I couldn't even
think. The only thing going through my mind was my mantra:
please be okay please be okay please be okay.
At the front desk, I gave the receptionist my wife's name, and was given a curtain number. As I neared curtain three, a doctor emerged from her makeshift room. It was like it was right out of a movie. He was in scrubs, a mask, and a cap. He must have been a surgeon. He looked tired and sweaty. As he appeared from behind the curtain, he pulled the mask down off his face and hung his head. I stopped dead in my tracks. My shoes made a squeaking sound on the linoleum floor as I came to a halt. Hearing the out of place sound, the doctor raised his head. He saw me and knew, and knew I knew. He could tell right away that I was Carol's husband. And he could see by the look on my face that I sensed bad news.
"Mr. Jenkins?" he asked rhetorically.
I couldn't speak. All I could do was nod.
"I'm Dr. Stalkings." We shook hands. He had a good, firm grip, but I barely noticed. I barely noticed anything except the terrible look on his face. "Your wife came in earlier today after a car accident. She had extensive internal bleeding. We were able to repair most of the damage, but her body was too weak to handle the surgery. Her heart stopped beating. We tried to bring her back, but it was no use. I'm terribly sorry. We did everything we could."
I knew he was talking, and I heard what he was saying, but it was as though someone had turned the volume almost all the way down. Like someone had stuck cotton in my ears. Everything was dimmed, not only sound. I could no longer feel the temperature of the room, or see the glaring florescent lights of the hospital wing. Everything just stopped.
Carol, I thought.
I guess my dazed state raised suspicion, because I could vaguely feel hands moving me, guiding me into a chair.
I looked up blankly into the doctor's face. "She's just.. gone?" I asked, like a little kid asking a store clerk where my mommy was.
I no longer noticed the doctor's uncomfortable look of pity. I didn't see when he walked away.
I no longer noticed the salmon-colored walls, or the peach-colored floor, or the unique smell of antiseptics and latex that can only be found in a hospital.
I no longer noticed anything around me.
I didn't feel the tears as they started to stream down my face.
I didn't feel myself begin to shake uncontrollably.
I didn't see the nurse insert the IV into my arm. I didn't feel anything as I was lifted from the chair into a bed.
The only thing I noticed was that my world had fallen apart.
She's gone, I thought to myself, as the sedative finally began to take effect.
2033 6/7/08
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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!