wilderness
New Member
Hey
This is just a first draft of a new story, and I've only just started it.
My best friend read it and percieved the main character entirely different to how I intended it. Just wondering on your opinions.
It Was Not Silent
I don’t believe in silence. I always manage to hear a distant bellowing, the rumble of traffic or the subtle beat of a heart. I can hear mine now, beating hard against my ribs, pounding in uncertainty and just waiting to erupt. I often think it will. As though one more breathe of my life, one more moment seeing from my eyes, could cause a beat to stumble and collapse.
I smoke in my room. The fumes encapsulate in the walls and seep into the carpet. She would have told me to put it out. She would have taken it from my lips and stumped it in the ashtray. Once, she kissed my mouth and pulled back in disgust. She spat on the floor, looked me in the eyes, and stormed out. The door slammed behind her and the sound resonated. I stayed in the same place, in the same composure, waiting for her to return. I almost waited till the sun came back, just thinking how much I fucking loved her, but how I just couldn’t do it right. Eventually, I lit another cigarette and went back to gazing into nothingness.
She left me after that.
My fingers relax and the bud falls out the window. I swear out loud, repeatedly, the words getting softer under my breath. I climb back onto my bed and close my eyes. It’s dark, all I see is black. I open them again and blink, trying to see the colours she once told me about. She said my bed was blue, the shelves were brown and the walls were cream. I try so hard to see the colours, but the darkness shields it all. I get up, lock the door and turn the lights out. My head stops spinning and I stop straining to see through the obscurity.
It was not silent. The room was quiet, but I could hear the sprinklers outside and the dogs barking next door. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to disturb my equilibrium, or what was left of it.
So thats just the start of the story..and I think I have a tense problem...but still.
My friend percieved the person telling the story to be a female in a lesbian relationship. (However, my friend is a lesbian...so that may have been her influence.)
I always intended the character to be a male...but now I'm questioning.
Do you think the story (what you have read) feels right with a straight male or a lesbian as the narrator??
Also, she thought the main character was blind, which is why their sound was hightened. Is is what you thought? Because I meant it to be emotional darkness.
(It's kinda hard to answer without knowing where the story is going....but whatever you say will be helpful).
Thanx for reading.
Lani
This is just a first draft of a new story, and I've only just started it.
My best friend read it and percieved the main character entirely different to how I intended it. Just wondering on your opinions.
It Was Not Silent
I don’t believe in silence. I always manage to hear a distant bellowing, the rumble of traffic or the subtle beat of a heart. I can hear mine now, beating hard against my ribs, pounding in uncertainty and just waiting to erupt. I often think it will. As though one more breathe of my life, one more moment seeing from my eyes, could cause a beat to stumble and collapse.
I smoke in my room. The fumes encapsulate in the walls and seep into the carpet. She would have told me to put it out. She would have taken it from my lips and stumped it in the ashtray. Once, she kissed my mouth and pulled back in disgust. She spat on the floor, looked me in the eyes, and stormed out. The door slammed behind her and the sound resonated. I stayed in the same place, in the same composure, waiting for her to return. I almost waited till the sun came back, just thinking how much I fucking loved her, but how I just couldn’t do it right. Eventually, I lit another cigarette and went back to gazing into nothingness.
She left me after that.
My fingers relax and the bud falls out the window. I swear out loud, repeatedly, the words getting softer under my breath. I climb back onto my bed and close my eyes. It’s dark, all I see is black. I open them again and blink, trying to see the colours she once told me about. She said my bed was blue, the shelves were brown and the walls were cream. I try so hard to see the colours, but the darkness shields it all. I get up, lock the door and turn the lights out. My head stops spinning and I stop straining to see through the obscurity.
It was not silent. The room was quiet, but I could hear the sprinklers outside and the dogs barking next door. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to disturb my equilibrium, or what was left of it.
So thats just the start of the story..and I think I have a tense problem...but still.
My friend percieved the person telling the story to be a female in a lesbian relationship. (However, my friend is a lesbian...so that may have been her influence.)
I always intended the character to be a male...but now I'm questioning.
Do you think the story (what you have read) feels right with a straight male or a lesbian as the narrator??
Also, she thought the main character was blind, which is why their sound was hightened. Is is what you thought? Because I meant it to be emotional darkness.
(It's kinda hard to answer without knowing where the story is going....but whatever you say will be helpful).
Thanx for reading.
Lani