Prose Offering for the week of the 21st

[Silver Cyclone]

Okay I didn't have time to edit it and I can't remember if this is my most up to date one but after I've posted and read through it I'll tell ya. Either way every now and again I come back and add a little bit too it. Posted it here before but not many read it so here ya go again. Hope you all enjoy.

The Window Shopper

I awoke to the sun shining through the dusty windows, running my fingers through my knotted hair as I glanced around the room. The old black and white television was flickering, left on from the previous night. A dirty plate lay on the floor. I stared up at the ceiling, getting lost in the movement of the various dust strings as they were caught by the wind blowing in from the broken glass pane. They appeared to dance, so full of energy, so vibrant and yet so peaceful. They didn’t have a care in the world, just caught in a constant updraft.

My thoughts went to the gems, as they had done for the past fortnight. I had been planning, timing, and plotting the get away route. “Today’s the day”. My heart thumped.

Everyday I would pass the shop, ‘Pollywag’s’. They would glisten in the window, beckoning me. Yet I could afford not one. Not the amber yellow that shone with every essence of the sun. Not the ruby red that burned like a raging fire even on the coldest of days. Not the sapphire blue that could make you feel the cool ocean breeze under the burning sun, Not the emerald green that would turn even the kindest, placid and most generous man jealous. Not even the amethyst purple that sparkled like a crisp dew covered violet in the early morning sun. I watched other folk buying them, they must be rich. My grubby hands not allowed near.

I stared at the putty, which I had carefully shaped, ready to place in the bottom edge of the shop doorframe. My plan was set fresh in my mind. The bus would arrive at the stop outside Pollywag’s at exactly 5:15. The street was usually clear after that. At precisely 5:20, the old women would take the wedge from under the door and as it slowly closed, would wander out the back. That’s when I make my move. I would slip in and take those life altering gems.

I couldn’t be bothered to wash. I slipped into my old grey flannels, which were worn around the edges. I noticed a stain on my vest as I put on my shirt. My big toe poked through my sock and my dirty old shoes had seen better days. I was only too glad it wasn’t raining to let the water in.

I slipped quietly out and set off for town. My concentration was on the job in hand. The more I thought about it, the more nervous I became and the more I wanted the gems. Lost in thought, I didn’t acknowledge George, my neighbour, as he passed me by.

Once outside Pollywag’s, I took one last look through the window. “They’ll not be there much longer, but soon to be safe in my pocket”. No one watching, I put the putty in place. Sure enough, 5:15, the bus arrived. The crowd disappeared and the old lady took away the wedge and headed towards the back. The time had come. Nerves, adrenalin or fright took over and everything from that moment went blank, because the next thing I knew, I was off like lightning down the road.

“Remember the plan; walk calmly and nonchalantly along the path, don’t look back, take the safe route home.” I slowed down listening to the voice in my head. “MY GOD”! I heard footsteps running up behind me. “Were they chasing me? Had they spotted me”? It was then I saw the police car. It seemed to come from nowhere and I could hear the sirens screeching like next doors cat. I panicked, quickly sidestepped into a dark alley, through a yard, down a ‘back tenfoot’, over a fence and wallop to the floor. I couldn’t feel the pain, or see the blood, everything was a blur. I scrambled into the shadows. “Keep moving”. Hearing the police dogs in the background, I spurted on. Luckily I recognised the broken down old shed at the bottom of Jack’s garden. I slipped down Burnt Alley, along Thieves Lane and in the back gate. I hit the floor, back first, my chest heaving. “I’ve done it; I’m back safe and sound”. A cool breeze washed over me as I lay there in perfect silence. The utter silence was suddenly broken by that voice.

“JERRY. WHAT ARE YOU UP TO? YE TEAS READY”.

I looked down passed my old grey school shorts at my bloody knees. I reached into my pocket and pulled out that emerald gem, slipped it past my dry lips. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm apple flavour my favourite. Mmmmmmmmmmm Midget Gems.

Okay yeah this one wasn;t my most recent version. In the most recent version I took out the parts with the putty as it confused a few people not realsing it was meant to leave the door ajar. And when you're a kid you get silly ideas like that.

Anyhoo hope you enjoyed it.

Also just so you know I wrote this when I was about 15 so bare that in mind ><

[Chris]

It's a clever concept, Ill give you that. Liked the build up at the end too, gives a "Have to keep reading, cause I must know what happens next!"

With a lot of editing, it could be a great tale, but as you said, you wrote it when you were 15. The first half just seems somewhat uneventful. How old is this person also?

[Silver Cyclone]

Well he is intended to be a kid of what age not too sure myself. Like I said I edited this thing quite a numerous of times after this one. Unfortunately I seemed to have lost that one. The main part about the first half though was mainly the atmospheric build and the general life style he has and also build up the illusion of a grown male tennant when in fact he is just a lazy kid.

[Ceraziefish]

I enjoyed this story. I'll give you a more complete edit later on, possibly tomorrow morning. Because I'm gonna hit up the food library soon.

[Bundydoc]

Not the amber yellow that shone with every essence of the sun. Not the ruby red that burned like a raging fire even on the coldest of days. Not the sapphire blue that could make you feel the cool ocean breeze under the burning sun, Not the emerald green that would turn even the kindest, placid and most generous man jealous. Not even the amethyst purple that sparkled like a crisp dew covered violet in the early morning sun.

I enjoyed the imagery of the different stones, each one creating a different emotion for the character. I also like the part about the sock with a hole in the toe. How I can relate to that.

Was there someone in the shed there with him at the end? Where did the voice come from?

Great story, I enjoyed it.

[Silver Cyclone]

Wow not many comments at all.

Yeah the stone writing was my favourite part of the whole thing. He wasn't in a shed he ran to his house. the voice was his mother teling him to come in for dinner. He was actually a school boy and just stole some sweeties.

[Ceraziefish]

The Window Shopper

I awoke to the sun shining through the dusty windows, running my fingers through my knotted hair as I glanced around the room. The old black and white television was flickering, left on from the previous night. A dirty plate lay on the floor. I stared up at the ceiling, getting lost in the movement of the various dust strings as they were caught by the wind blowing in from the broken glass pane. They appeared to dance, so full of energy, so vibrant and yet so peaceful. They didn’t have a care in the world, just caught in a constant updraft.[1]

My thoughts went to the gems, as they had done for the past fortnight. I had been planning, timing, and plotting the get away route. “Today’s the day”. My heart thumped.

Everyday I would pass the shop, ‘Pollywag’s’. They would glisten in the window, beckoning me. Yet I could afford not one. [2]Not the amber yellow that shone with every essence of the sun. Not the ruby red that burned like a raging fire even on the coldest of days. Not the sapphire blue that could make you feel the cool ocean breeze under the burning sun, Not the emerald green that would turn even the kindest, placid and most generous man jealous. Not even the amethyst purple that sparkled like a crisp dew covered violet in the early morning sun. [3]I watched other folk buying them, they must be rich. My grubby hands not allowed near. [4]

I stared at the putty, which I had carefully shaped, ready to place in the bottom edge of the shop doorframe. My plan was set fresh in my mind. The bus would arrive at the stop outside Pollywag’s at exactly 5:15. The street was usually clear after that. At precisely 5:20, the old women would take the wedge from under the door and as it slowly closed, would wander out the back. That’s when I make my move. I would slip in and take those life altering gems.

I couldn’t be bothered to wash. I slipped into my old grey flannels, which were worn around the edges. I noticed a stain on my vest as I put on my shirt. My big toe poked through my sock and my dirty old shoes had seen better days. I was only too glad it wasn’t raining to let the water in.

I slipped quietly out and set off for town. My concentration was on the job in hand. The more I thought about it, the more nervous I became and the more I wanted the gems. Lost in thought, I didn’t acknowledge George, my neighbour, as he passed me by.

Once outside Pollywag’s, I took one last look through the window. “They’ll not be there much longer, but soon to be safe in my pocket”. [5]No one watching, I put the putty in place. Sure enough, 5:15, the bus arrived. The crowd disappeared and the old lady took away the wedge and headed towards the back. The time had come. Nerves, adrenalin [6] or fright took over and everything from that moment went blank, because the next thing I knew, I was off like lightning down the road.

“Remember the plan; walk calmly and nonchalantly along the path, don’t look back, take the safe route home.” I slowed down listening to the voice in my head. “MY GOD”! I heard footsteps running up behind me. “Were they chasing me? Had they spotted me”? It was then I saw the police car. It seemed to come from nowhere and I could hear the sirens screeching like next doors cat. I panicked, quickly sidestepped into a dark alley, through a yard, down a ‘back tenfoot’, over a fence and wallop to the floor. I couldn’t feel the pain, or see the blood, everything was a blur. I scrambled into the shadows. “Keep moving”. Hearing the police dogs in the background, I spurted on. Luckily I recognised the broken down old shed at the bottom of Jack’s garden. I slipped down Burnt Alley, along Thieves Lane and in the back gate. I hit the floor, back first, my chest heaving. “I’ve done it; I’m back safe and sound”. A cool breeze washed over me as I lay there in perfect silence. The utter silence was suddenly broken by that voice.

“JERRY. WHAT ARE YOU UP TO? YE TEAS READY”.

I looked down passed my old grey school shorts at my bloody knees. I reached into my pocket and pulled out that emerald gem, slipped it past my dry lips. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm apple flavour my favourite. Mmmmmmmmmmm Midget Gems.[7]

General stuff -- Be careful with the beginnings of sentences. You tend to write some paragraphs like "I did this. I did that. I went here. I went there," this is only natural, which means we must DESTROY IT. Because it makes for awkward writing. I know I have a huge problem with that, but it makes it sound like you're writing a list... Which is no good. Lists are boring.

1. This is an awesome opening paragraph. It really sets the tone well.

2. This is a little awkward. I'd say "couldn't afford any" or something else. "Could afford not one" is just weird negation.

3. Easily my favorite part of the story. The description of the different crystals is great.

4. I think you switched a tense or something here, it's weird. I'd say "My grubby hands were not allowed near."

5. It's possible you should say "I thought" or something like that, to indicate that it is thought, and not someone else talking to him. Just a... thought. *Rimshot*

6. It's spelled adrenaline

7. A personal habit of mine is to just use three extra things whenever an extra thing is required. So ... instead of............. Both indicate a pause, one doesn't take up too much space. So you might want to make it just "Mmm," if you're like me. On the other hand, now that I think about it it does make it pretty awesome.

Overall, this is a cool story. I love how it subverted my expectations completely. I think anyone who's ever stolen anything minor *cough, cough* should be able to empathize with this.

[LeadingMan]

I'm gonna be honest in that I like and dislike the concept of this at the same time. (Btw, I never had a problem with the putty thing, I got exactly what he was trying to do and it was one of the first things that revealed to me he might be a kid. Only a kid makes plans to steal things using silly putty.) Well to be a bit more descriptive, I do like the concept and the storytelling. What doesn't quite work for me is the narrative. I think it's the fact that he seems a bit too mature in his internal dialogue for a child. Now, if this was being told from a perspective of a "job from the past" I think that might work better. That way it can still give the illusion of a child making grand plans to steal a piece of candy, but can also be told by a now adult narrator. Regardless, something in there is a little jarring, and might need another examination.

The disembodied voice shouting that the tea's ready was also a little odd, might be nice to give grandma, mom, or whoever it was a little bit of face time to smooth the transition into the reveal of gem's and the main character's age...

A couple minor things that bothered me were the abundance of the words my and I. I understand that he's narrating his own adventure, but he seemed to talk a bit too much about himself. I statements tend to draw to exactly what he did in relation to that scene, and I think you could use a bit more description. Currently it reads a lot like a hemmingway story. "A dirty dish was on the floor." It all comes off a little plain, and when you combine that with some of the other elements I mentioned it makes your story seem a little bare boned.

Overall a good job though! I agree with bundydoc that the descriptions of the individual candies were great, and helped capture a feeling that he was desperate to obtain and almost fanatical in knowledge about them. Good stuff.b

[PMA]

Alright, another one I finally got around to reading. Comments:

1. You know what's great about the fact that you wrote it when you were 15? You weren't old enough (with age comes overconfidence) to fuck too much with tenses. This is the first piece I've read on AE that's maintained a consistent tense (albeit, the story itself lended itself fairly easily to a consistent tense). There were occassional SLIGHT tense shifts (still in past, if you ask me), but they lended themselves well to the story. Congrats, hahaha

2. The 3rd to last paragraph (the one that's just one huge block)... Well played on making it so blocky. You made it almost confusing in how the sentences seemed to run together, which worked wonders if you ask me.

3. Hmmm... go fig. I guess I'm the only one who wasn't too keen on the descriptions of the candies. Seemed forced and a bit robotic in terms of imagery.

4. I agree with Gimpass, the ending with the tea kind of threw me for a loop. Totally interrupted the flow of the story. Yes, I realize its supposed to... but it wasn't too effective in pulling us out of his fantasy, it more was just a distraction.

5. Ya, putty part didn't confuse me at all.

6. This was an easy one to edit. Not much to it really, but a cute little read.

[Silver Cyclone]

Thanks for the comments people.

I'll take them all on board.

It's weird it's like every english person I have shown the story too loved the ending and knew immediately what was happening, most likely because midget gems are a born and bread english sweet while every american person I have shown understood the putty. Obviously americans played with putty more the us brits.

Most importantly I want to say. Gimpy I fully agree. I have always had the exact same nagging thought in my head while I wrote this. I mean what kid actually thinks to himmelf the word nonchalantly. But at the same time it's a working progress I really have no idea where I may go with this. I have always loved this story and was really rather proud with myself after writing it. I always thought of a man telling stories of his youth but did want to massively chnage the dialogue/make it obvious that it was a kid.

[Silver Cyclone]

Okay I am reviving this thread because me and my friend rob are thinking of turning this into a short couple of minutes long film. I think it would work really well especially if I have a constant narrative to go along with it. Well not too sure yet. Also just a thought about the whole being older and dialogue being a bit mature. If I was to say the boy was mid teens it would all come together rather nicely.

[Silver Cyclone]

If the character was shown earlier though it wouldn't as much of a twist. Hence why I took the putty part out in my updated version as it was too much of a give away

[Silver Cyclone]

well in the film version you would get a clear shot of the mother yelling at her son. Thus visualisation.

[Silver Cyclone]

plan to upload it to youtube and various other sites.