Hi guys… So I’m kind of new here…my name is Cassi, or at least that’s what the people here in forum is calling me…I love to write, mostly poetry, but also short stories…so I’ve started on this little story called ”Morning Fog” and I just wanted to share it with you…this is the first part, I thought I’m gonna post a part every week or so, and then I would like to hear what you think…but if you think it sucks and most of you don’t want to hear more I’ll just stop posting Well here we go; ”Morning Fog” Part 1 It’s early morning, nothing special, just an other normal day. The fog is laying thick and grey over the city. Everything is quiet, no one is awake yet. The city is asleep, just like the people living there. The silence is ruling. If a bird had fallen to the grown, meet the paving stones, you would have heard the soft thump of a little body against stone. But all birds and paving stones are asleep as well. When the fog finally starts to clear, the first small people starts to move. But the fog is laying like a blanket, locking out the sun and it’s beam. Cos the people are going to sleep a bit longer, aren’t they? A door opens somewhere down in the city. A man is coming out. He got a hat and a coat on, he’s walking along the paving stones. He leaves a dark house, like so many other people does every morning. The humans have done it for ages and they’ll continue with this. Leaving their small cottages and caves in the early morning. But what’s he leaving? An empty house? Dishes on the bench? A wife safely sleeping? Or a wife thanking god that he finally left? Maybe they’ve had a fight, it looks like it on the way he walks, fast and determined. His coat is strain, well worn. He polished the shoes yesterday, they meet the street with a high, hard sound. The attaché case is swinging forward and back, rhythmic all the way. He pass flowerbeds, hedges, but he don’t see the beauty in them. All he’s thinking of is his job. It’s silent in the house, she’s sitting in the bottom of the stairs, lonely, left alone as always. She sigh, dries her eyes, the last tear on her cheek. Tells herself she got to put herself together. She draw one’s breath. Counting to three, let it go…She goes to the bathroom, turns on the tap, she was her face. Tries to hide all traces of cries and unhappiness. She suck in her cheeks, making a pout. Tries to make a sexy, flirting look. So she leaves for the kitchen, making coffee. She sits down, right beside the window, looks out on the grey morning. Is getting annoyed over her husband who has forgotten to put the milk back in the fridge. So she sees his glasses, he has forgotten them, for a moment she looks at them, smiles at them. With a quick move she push them outside the table. They fall weighty against the floor, she sets her foot on them. Smiles as she hears glass breaks. He’s still going fast, don’t know he has forgotten his glasses, don’t know his wife is sweeping them together now. Wrapping them into a flowered towel she found in the bathroom. He cross a square, she puts the towel in the garbage. He’s at his office, she takes with her the pouch and throws it in the rubbish bin outside the house. Stands there, taking a deep breath, smiling before she turns, goes back into the warm house.
Hi Very promising and emotive. There aren't many stories written the present tense. So that's intriguing, will have to see how that pans out. A few little gliches in grammar and such, but they're not so bad. Look forward to reading more.
It's a strong start, Cassi! I like the personal, lively narrative feel it has. A conversation with the reader and now and then you lift your head and look at us. We're listening! It teems with minutiae, all those tiny observations that make up a day and that most of us barely notice. Hmmm, it looks like the lady of the house is the stronger character so far. She clearly has decided to make this day a helluva lot different than what's come before. I wonder what you have planned. But don't lose the style and sensory awareness you've developed so far. Good luck!
Thanks to both of you, really nice!! I think I'll put some more happiness into it now, before I make it dark again..well, we'll see...I'm nearly finished with part two..I'll try to post it on friday or some(comes up with how much homework my teachers gives me well..thanks again, luv.
Hallo again..So now I finally(?) finished the second part..I've had a lot of homework to do..sorry guys Well, it's not very long, but I think the next part will get longer*lol*...I hope you like it!!! Cassi. ”Morning Fog” Part 2. Silent again. The fog still lays like a thick, protective blanket. Some birds are flying, singing in the park. A squirrel jumps from tree to tree. A new door opens, a new human comes out. Out in the early spring morning. She’s small, sweet with big curly hair. She wears a brown coat, it’s tight around her belly. She locks the door, if you listen carefully you can hear the little ”click”. She walks down the stairs, out the entrance. She smiles as she goes of to work, she nearly light up the street. It looks like she’s floating along the road, like an angel. Quietly alongside the river. She pass sleeping houses, wakes up a couple of paving stones. Two cats are sitting close to each other, trying to keep warm, she takes right, away from the river. She goes through the park. The squirrel is looking for some breakfast. She cross the street, nearly there. In an apartment nearby two people is laying in a bed. Both of them awake, both pretending they are asleep. The time is passing so slowly, the minutes, hours, seconds is going at a snail pace. If they only could sleep. He pretends he turns in his sleep, looks at the watch. He doesn’t need to get up yet. It feels like the morning’s never gonna end. He don’t need to get up, but at the same time it’s the only thing he wants to. get up, eat breakfast, go to work. Get away from all the silence. He goes out of bed, over to his son. He’s sleeping, got a thumb in his mouth. He got nothing to worry about, because he doesn’t know what’s coming. He gives the boy a kiss on his forehead, enter the kitchen like a king, majestically. Eats breakfast, leaves the silent behind. She turns in the bed as she hears the door locks. Looks sad up in the ceiling. Feels the distance growing. Like a cleft digging itself deeper and deeper. It’s impossible to jump over. They stand on each side, sees the other one disappearing in the horizon. A partition growing up through the mattress. In the middle of the bed, a division between before and now. A border which seems to be impossible to cross or change. To be continued…
