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Allan Riverwood
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0 posted 2001-04-03 01:37 PM


     It smelled of candles in the room that night.  I wasn't sure quite why, there certainly weren't any candles about me.  I could see nothing, in fact, not even my hand before my eyes as I felt around for something distinct, a wall, a person, a table, anything that could possibly defy the nothingness that seemed to keep me pressed back from my destination.  I couldn't hear a thing, I couldn't see a thing... and aside from the blessed ground beneath my quivering, bare feet, I couldn't feel a thing either.  There was a new definition of emptiness in my brain at the moment... but then, there was the smell of candles...
     I hopped irritably when the temperature changed upon my fiftieth step (I had been counting), to a prickly, unwelcome warmth.  A step backward that resulted from my jump asked my brain if I should subtract one from my count of steps, and it held the question entirely too long.  Perhaps I was being paranoid, my brain told me.  Perhaps I needed to sleep.  And although the room seemed quite adequate for slumber (if anything), I dared not lay down on the floor... for it was risk enough to have placed my feet upon them fifty or forty-nine times.  In all the nothingness, I was afraid of so many things... although realistically, all that my brain suggested that I had to fear were candles.  But where were the candles?  Were there none?  Could the smell have been something else?  My brain contained no information to help me at that point... it had drawn a conclusion of the smell already, and I couldn't argue with my own brain without its help.  So I digressed from my futile inner rebellion and settled on the idea of a harmless wax rod, burning at its tip.  
     I moved my eyes left and right, although the only thing that really told me that I truly was moving my eyes was my own assumption that my body still functioned correctly.  Certainly, I could assume that my nose was working, as were my feet.  Each of them were at least giving me signals of some sort, and it was easiest to act as though I trusted myself enough to believe either of them anyway.  So I took my fiftieth or fifty-first step and continued on my way.  
     Was I looking for something?  And if not, why was I walking?  My brain was stubborn enough to ignore these questions that it had answered me on too many occasions past... I was simply walking to maintain my sanity, walking only because I could.  Counting, because of my curiousity of just how far I could walk, before either collapse or completion of my path.  
     And smelling the air, because I was still human... and still needed to breathe.  
     The smell of candles was driving me mad, nearly making me lose count of my steps on some occasions.  I proposed to my brain that I breathe through my mouth awhile, but it scoldingly assured me that, should I open my mouth, I would fill the air with a shriek of madness.  But would that really be so bad? At least, it would be a sound.  At least i would know, once again, that my ears, and indeed my voice, were still functioning.  Perhaps the room wasn't dark at all... perhaps I was blind.  And perhaps there wasn't silence at all... perhaps... I was simply now deaf.  Like a fool, I went against my brain's wishes, and opened my mouth to scream aloud, to fill the air with a sound.  
     But all that I heard was the sound of burning candles.  


© Copyright 2001 Brian James Lee - All Rights Reserved
LoveBug
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1 posted 2001-04-03 09:15 PM


Allan, you would never know this was your first prose. The descriptions are just perfect. I can't say that I understood everything about this (my pea brain can't take all of it), but other than that, it's perfect. Keep up the great prose writing!

"Men judge generally more by the eye than by the hand, for everyone can see and few can feel."-Machiavelli

Pearls_Of_Wisdom
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since 2000-09-02
Posts 175

2 posted 2001-04-03 09:26 PM


Hello Allan,

This was certainly original and absorbing.  I found it a tad (just a tad) melodramatic or pretentious sounding at times (eg "there were no candles about me"), but maybe I'm just distracted by the sound of my sister talking on the phone here beside me.  =)  It was pretty horrible when I did get into it, though, so you can be sure it had an emotional impact!  Kind of like a bad dream that isn't really a dream but reality.

I have 2 small suggestions that you can use or not.  It's up to you.  (1) Maybe you could try to pare this down (i.e. shorten it a bit) to make it even more suspenseful and absorbing.  Maybe I'm a minimalist, but as a reader, I enjoy being left to imagine some things for myself, although I do think you must keep in some of your well-written description.  

(2) One other small suggestion I have is to work on your punctuation a bit, especially towards the beginning.  Sometimes you use a comma where you need a period or semi-colon because you've stated a complete thought.  Does that make sense?  Anyway, I did enjoy this.  Thanks for the read.  I'll be looking for more. =)

Ashlye

[This message has been edited by Pearls_Of_Wisdom (edited 04-03-2001).]

Allan Riverwood
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3 posted 2001-04-03 09:43 PM


Oh yeah.... you are right about the punctuation, at least.  I'll take a second look at this piece as a whole.  Thanks for your criticism, you two!     It's my first prose, after all.  

The sun was born, so it shall die. ~VNV Nation, "Further"

Christopher
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Purgatorial Incarceration
4 posted 2001-04-04 02:05 AM


Oh - you did! (refer to reply in 'Aileen's Smile')

Not bad for a first shot Allan! You incorporated some angst and some imagery. One suggestion I would like to make - for the ease of reading in the forums, and on the Net as a whole - double space in between paragraphs! Hit enter twice at the end of each paragraph of prose, and it will be much easier for the readers to enjoy!

Peace,

Chris

Child of the Stars
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5 posted 2001-04-22 03:08 PM


Gee wiz.....'mazin job, hun.  
  ~Carly

There is pleasure in poetic pains which only poets know......~Unknown

obscurity of cloud
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6 posted 2001-05-12 02:23 PM


I really enjoyed this.  Your prose, like your poetry, is not written, but created.  Like the others have said, the only nuances were in punctuation.  Great job.

"so when at times the mob is swayed to carry praise or blame too far, we may choose something like a star" --Frost

fractal007
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since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958

7 posted 2001-05-15 02:00 PM


Allan:

Good writing here.  It read a lot like a sci-fi story, with the constant references to the brain.  The philosophical ponderings of this are also quite well done.

As for recommendations, I think that your paragraph structure could be improved on a little.  You seem to be putting a little too much into each paragraph, so that the writing gets off topic.  

Other than that, and a few errors in your punctuation, I'd say this is a pretty good piece of writing.

"If history is to change, let it change. If the world is to be destroyed, so be it. If my fate is to die, I must simply laugh"

-- Magus

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