Primer-Gray Lincoln

[leckert]

Through flecks of dried paint and grease, Web could see the hands of his watch pointing at four and one - five minutes after four already. He wondered how long they would wait. He wondered how long the moron at the checkout counter had been on the ‘work-release’ program. The woman in the front of the line seemed to be pulling groceries from every orifice, piling meaningless piles of turd fodder on the rubber belt. He scanned the parking lot through the plate glass: no sign of the primer-gray Lincoln - yet. The clerk scanned… scanned… smoothed down, scanned, and looked. Finally, he began punching keys like a blind man shooting skeet.

“PRICE CHECK ON REGISTER 5!”

Web’s face flashed hot, like a schoolgirl caught kissing. The weight in his jacket pocket was pulling on his shoulder. He felt a snake tickle between his shoulder blades as a rivulet of sweat found the waistband of his underwear. They had to be wondering where he was by now. He worried the neck of the bread bag, and twined his fingers into the Sunbeam yellow plastic. He relaxed some with his right hand in his jacket, stroking what was there: cool; comfortable. A flash of silver jerked His head to the window; the Lincoln had finally arrived. His breath hitched in his chest, and a spike of adrenaline pierced his breastbone. He turned to run.

It was a silver Chevy: wire rimmed glasses and two kids in the back. Relief was an oasis for a moment. He emptied his lungs.

The manager was sticking keys in the register. “Sorry, folks, we’ll be with you as soon as we can”

“SEAN, TO THE FRONT, CODE 2!” the same voice over the PA system.

Web couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled the nine-millimeter semi-automatic pistol from his pocket, and unloaded it into the crowd in front of him. Pushing his way through the carts, the groceries, the bodies, he staggered to the door and into the parking lot. Less than ten feet from his truck, he felt heavy in his legs. Burning engulfed his chest on one side, and he didn’t know where he was. Instantly in flight and disoriented, and sooner falling back to the ground. His face broke his fall:

on the front bumper of a primer-gray Lincoln.

 

[sirmyk]

The woman in the front of the line seemed to be pulling groceries from every orifice, piling meaningless piles of turd fodder on the rubber belt.

- This is a great sentence... like something I would write. Although I would lose the redundant "piling ... piles".

"...he began punching keys like a blind man shooting skeet." I know where you are trying to go with this one, but I have a hard time envisioning a blind man trying to punch keys while shooting skeet.

You also need a "the" thrown in there somewhere, and some punctuation fixes around some of your dialogue. This is fun, though. Great work.

 

[leckert]

...Although I would lose the redundant "piling ... piles"...

I was being intentionally redundant here. I thought it would amplify his sense of urgency and convey the pressure in his impatient brain. I'm not going to strike it immediately, but I will look at it.

Thanks, alot for the compliment. There is no story around this yet, it was yet another excercise for a writing contest I didn't enter. The assignment was to write like 2500 wds about a mundane task. They listed "standing in line at a grocery store" as an option, so I took it. Never sent it in though. I'm too much of a cheapskate, skeptic, and egotist to pay someone to read my stuff.

I need to go back to HS grammar and relearn how to punctuate quotes!

Thanks again!

 

[leckert]

Would love some feedback on this.

 

[Motokid]

Well, let me first say thank you for not posting 100,000 words and then asking for comments. I find it very difficult to read so much "stuff" most of the time.

Yours is short and sweet. I liked it (oooohhhh...the horrible words). I read it twice. The description of the "snake tickle" was really cool. I liked the "twining" of the fingers in the bread bag. Blind man shooting skeet....I could see that happening.

You left me wanting to read more, instead of making me trudge until I could find the end.

I want to know if Wes was shot? I was also expecting him to want to rob the store...but he didn't...makes me wonder why he had to shoot his way through the crowd....

I would gladely read more if you decided to write more....is that what you want to hear?

 

[sirmyk]

Yes, please write more. I did, however, enjoy reading this a second time. Have you modified? It seems to flow a little better now (unlike my leaky toilet at home).

 

[Stewart]

Through flecks of dried paint and grease, Web could see the hands of his watch pointing at four and one - five minutes after four already. He wondered how long they would wait. He wondered how long the moron at the checkout counter had been on the ‘work-release’ program. The woman in the front of the line seemed to be pulling groceries from every orifice, piling meaningless piles of turd fodder on the rubber belt. He scanned the parking lot through the plate glass: no sign of the primer-gray Lincoln - yet. The clerk scanned… scanned… smoothed down, scanned, and looked. Finally, he began punching keys like a blind man shooting skeet.

In the first sentence I couldn't help but feel already should be italicised. I also don't get why he's wondering how long they would wait - are you referring to the others in the queue? Do you need to put work release inside quotes?

"The woman in the front of the line" seems like to much. The woman heading the queue or The woman to the front of the line sounds better, in my opinion.

While I understand your intention with the piling and piles I agree with syrmik in that it doesn't work here. I'm a bit curious about the "turd fodder" too, since fodder implies usage (i.e. cannon fodder, something dispensable to be shot at) but turds don't use anything.

I'm with syrmik, again, on the blind man simile. I'd be more inclined to use a more relevant simile; one that comes to minds is a typist.

A flash of silver jerked His head to the window; the Lincoln had finally arrived.

When did God enter the story? Or did you mean his rather than His?

It was a silver Chevy: wire rimmed glasses and two kids in the back. Relief was an oasis for a moment.

I don't think it works to use the word silver so soon after the first usage. The second usage, however, is more appropriate.

He emptied his lungs.

I don't like this. It conveys no sense of how he did it, a sigh, a gust, effort?

The manager was sticking keys in the register. “Sorry, folks, we’ll be with you as soon as we can”

A little bit more description to paint the character of the manager: The manager, a stocky guy with a freckled face, was sticking keys in the register.

Web couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled the nine-millimeter semi-automatic pistol from his pocket, and unloaded it into the crowd in front of him. Pushing his way through the carts, the groceries, the bodies, he staggered to the door and into the parking lot. Less than ten feet from his truck, he felt heavy in his legs. Burning engulfed his chest on one side, and he didn’t know where he was. Instantly in flight and disoriented, and sooner falling back to the ground. His face broke his fall:

on the front bumper of a primer-gray Lincoln.

Only one thing; for a gun to be used in a public space one thing that would certainly be evident is noise. We don't hear the gun, people screaming, or milk gurgling from a carton where a stray bullet entered it.

Other than that, it was nice. My favourite sentence was : The clerk scanned… scanned… smoothed down, scanned, and looked.

 

[leckert]

In the first sentence I couldn't help but feel already should be italicised. I also don't get why he's wondering how long they would wait - are you referring to the others in the queue? Do you need to put work release inside quotes?

"The woman in the front of the line" seems like to much. The woman heading the queue or The woman to the front of the line sounds better, in my opinion.

While I understand your intention with the piling and piles I agree with syrmik in that it doesn't work here. I'm a bit curious about the "turd fodder" too, since fodder implies usage (i.e. cannon fodder, something dispensable to be shot at) but turds don't use anything.

I'm with syrmik, again, on the blind man simile. I'd be more inclined to use a more relevant simile; one that comes to minds is a typist.



When did God enter the story? Or did you mean his rather than His?



I don't think it works to use the word silver so soon after the first usage. The second usage, however, is more appropriate.



I don't like this. It conveys no sense of how he did it, a sigh, a gust, effort?



A little bit more description to paint the character of the manager: The manager, a stocky guy with a freckled face, was sticking keys in the register.



Only one thing; for a gun to be used in a public space one thing that would certainly be evident is noise. We don't hear the gun, people screaming, or milk gurgling from a carton where a stray bullet entered it.

Other than that, it was nice. My favourite sentence was : The clerk scanned… scanned… smoothed down, scanned, and looked.

Thanks, Stewart.

I thought about "he emptied his lungs", and used it to avoid a tired cliche. Maybe I'll revisit and see what I can come up with.

I really appreciate your time, and your well thought-out comments.

 

[leckert]

Well, let me first say thank you for not posting 100,000 words and then asking for comments. I find it very difficult to read so much "stuff" most of the time.

I would gladely read more if you decided to write more....is that what you want to hear?

That's what I want to hear, if that's what you mean! Thanks for reading, MK.

I agree, chapters of stuff is tedious to read through. I posted another, very long story here, and got very few readers.

I appreciate your comments.

@SirMyk.

I have not modified this. I appreciate you reading it again.