Distance. Convenience.
The tap runs with all its might, sudden splats and noises in between suggesting either congestion or the possibility of water shortage. She cries softly now, and at the top of her voice the very next moment. Her throat and tears seem to have an understanding, one taking over the mantle as soon as the other tires out and reversing roles as they go. In parts, she cries and howls – with passing expressions of guilt, anger, remorse, loneliness and bravado on her face – all together but markedly distinct. How convenient it is for men, to just not care and let go. Why can she not be like them, hurtful and still not give a damn? For the past hour or more, the tap has been running exactly like it is now. It serves many purposes, you know. When tired and momentarily decisive as to finally unlock the bath, it helps her wash away her truth. Otherwise, it camouflages her shrills, enough to let them stay behind these walls and yet lets her be aware of her tears, her pain. She tells herself to stop, more out of boredom than anything else, looks up and washes her face again.
Somewhere a few blocks away from her, another bath is soaked in a running tap. Thick ruby layers of blood rush out with striking disdain, sudden splats and noises suggesting a slow death. He lies patiently now, and shivering dangerously the very next moment. For the past minute or more, he has been lying curled inside a square tile box, exactly like he is now. In parts, he cries and howls – with passing expressions of guilt, pain, escape and relief. One decisive moment, he tells himself to stop, looks up and lets go conveniently.
Very well demonstrated in your story.
Great job!
It is amazing how people like you can point out aspects I never really come across myself, neither during the process nor after the completion of the piece. Now that you say, however, it makes total sense. I guess I always think of these little elements first - the sun, the moon, the sounds, the room, the colours and shit like that. I don't really know how much it helps the story but I think I subconciously place everything else in order before, disorder rather - even the story takes a back-seat sometimes.
Thanks, again!
P.S: I am pleasantly surprised by you calling THIS a STORY. :-)
P.S. Every passing minute is a story.
P.P.S. Do I sound like a fan?
Yes, you do. Keep them coming, if nothing, for the sake of my bloated self at least.
The lesser the praises, the better! I am seriously fishing for good critiques nowadays. What is the point, otherwise? Right?
What I love in this post is the use of words to create the atmosphere for the plot. I love this part the most, "For the past hour or more, the tap has been running exactly like it is now. It serves many purposes, you know...... looks up and washes her face again." It's written beautifully.
:) Keep writing!
Thanks! You second all that me and Kruti have been discussing so far. I am glad readers like you are paying attention to these details.
:-)Keep READING.
And may be, i read too much in it.... but it also seems to be dictating the pace of the narrative!!
but one point that i found inapt if i can put it that way is.... "more out of boredom than anything else"!
it sort of trivialises the character... am not entirely sure if a motive to stop is needed!!
Brilliantly put in totality!!
Cheers!!
You do have a point there. What I was trying to show, was the futility of the whole exercise, I guess. Anyway, it does sound a little inapt and I shall look into it as and when work allows me to.
Thanks!
Were lines that I couldn't change
I was lost, oh yeah
I was lost, I was lost
Crossed lines I shouldn't have crossed
I was lost, oh yeah