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  • orbitalraindrops


  • Andolini Mafia Family
  • Joined: 16 Feb 2012
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Posted 13 March 2013 - 08:08 PM Edited by orbitalraindrops, 13 March 2013 - 08:12 PM.

The sky is crisp blue interspersed with white. It is a perfect day. He drives his fathers Mercedes. I know not what make. All I know is that it is a sleek majestic creature. Much like him. He drives with a careless urgency. We are hitting speeds of up to one hundred miles an hour up on those rocky mountain roads. And yet it feels much slower. It feels much smoother. He knows how to handle a vehicle. Then again he knows how to handle most things.

His hair is the colour of citrus spiced with flecks of almond. His eyes are piercing cyan. So blue they’re almost grey. He looks at me and gives me that smile. It is a cheeky smile but there is a certain sense of cynicism to it. A world weariness unknown to people like me.

“We are here”
His voice reflects the tones of a church organ. Sombre, deep. A great sense of thought put behind each word.

He stops the car and parks on a patch of flattened gravel. Whilst we wait we drink from a bottle of jack and he regales me with previous tales and adventures. I like it when he tells stories. It makes me feel so alive. He does more than simply recount an anecdote. He makes me feel as if I was actually there. Right there beside him as his life unfurled in colourful broad strokes. By the time we’ve finished the bottle it is getting dark. The moon is a silver pearl suspended from the sky. Every time he looks at me I tense my muscles trying to broaden my shoulders and push out my chest. He knows I’m doing it. And I know he knows I’m doing it. But I do it all the same. I want to impress him. I want him to love me like I love him. But it doesn’t happen. At one point I’m almost certain he’ll kiss me but he doesn’t. And I curse myself for wishful thinking. He notices my distress though and gives me a cheeky wink offering me more alcohol. This time it is Vodka. I don’t recognise the brand but I graciously accept it none the less. I am new to drinking. I am new to life.

I’ve had about three swigs of the new beverage when the alarm on his phone goes off. Californication by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. It doesn’t fit the environment. We are parked up in the Cotswolds. The night sky is purple like velvet and the air is clean. There is a mystical almost ethereal quality to it all. He stops the alarm much to my relief. I notice that as he looks up from his phone he is alert, vibrant. He scans the inside of the car slowly, looks at me then looks down at the clock on his phone.

“It has happened”
I nod trying to give him some form of reassurance.
“This time exactly. At this very spot… One year ago today”
I can see tears welling up in his eyes and seeing such a strong person become distressed hurts me.
“I never saw her again you know. After it happened. I never saw her again. It was the last time I saw her.”
I wince slightly at the mention of her.
“We were up here in this very same car. At this very same spot as you and I are now”
He articulates his point with his hand.He looks at me his beautiful eyes glazed with regret and whisky.
“Right up here you know. It was right up here when they took her. When they f*cking stole her”
I don’t like it when he swears.
“And there was nothing I could f*cking do. I tried to stop them. I tried to fight them off. But you can’t fight off something like that.”
He looks downwards and breathes deep. As if he’s trying to suck away at the very fabric of reality.
“It just kept on coming. And there was nothing we could do….nothing I...nothing I could do.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. I don’t like this story and I want it to stop. Whenever he speaks of her abduction he changes. He gets angry. He shrugs my hand off and glowers.
“You know I have nightmares about it now. I f*cking kid you not. It’s all clear as the day it happened. The dim lights on the horizon. How they pulsed, getting closer and closer. And how my stomach turned the closer they came. How I threw up as the light enveloped us. How I could do nothing but spew my f*cking guts up as they took her.”

“It wasn’t your fault…It really wasn’t. There was…there was nothing you could do”
“It was so bright. Oh so bright”
He repeats this for a few minutes or so. I don’t know what to do so I just listen to him. Occasionally in a raw moment of panic I take my eyes off him and look out the window. Looking for pulsing lights on the horizon. But I see nothing. Nothing but night sky and the sobs of a damaged man.

The vodka is finished in an uneasy silence. Once the last dregs are drained he turns the keys in the ignition and we drive off into the night.

Mokrie Dela
  • Mokrie Dela

    Killed by drones.

  • Zaibatsu
  • Joined: 01 May 2009
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  • Most Creative [Writing] 2016
    Most Talented Writer 2015
    Most Talented Writer 2014
    Most Talented Writer 2013
    Best Story/Poem 2013 "The Storm"
    Story/Poem of the Year 2011 "Justice in Flames"
    Story/Poem of the Year 2010 "City of Lies"


Posted 14 March 2013 - 12:16 AM

Firstly, i find your description of the day/sky very awkward. Perfecting is subjective, so what IS a perfect day? Some would say hot, but some would say cold...
There seems no immediate connection between that and the car. One fact, then another. It's a list, no story.

What would be better would be to combine or link the two. Is the mercedes a convertable? If so, is the roof down. if so, perfect, there's your link:

He drove a Mercedes. I'm not sure what model. The sky is a crisp blue, interspersed with fluffy streaks of white, and the fabric roof of the Mercedes is down, presenting the world upon his dashboard.

As always, its not a great example but i think you can see what i tried! Also be aware: MAKE AND MODEL. you're not sure what make - you just said it's a mercedes. That's the make. You're not sure what MODEL! tounge.gif

His hair colour i find very obscure. Citrus?! Is that yellow, orange, red, green? It's an interesting description, but not one i feel works, at least not off the bat. Perhaps stating it's a "wild golden" colour, then later referring to it as citrus would be better.
Flakes of almond too - im not sure that's necessary.
Piercing Cyan eyes? Now that's bold - straight away i'm seeing him as a character full of life, a bright thrill-seeker... I like that.
Then you undo it by saying they're "so blue they're almost grey". You've stated a very specific colour, why elabourate with a more obscure descirption? It's like saying "It was boiling in the sauna. It was so warm he didnt need a shirt. Too much can be too little, and this is a case of that.

I' liking the intimacy the narrator has with this character. I'm almost sensing some romantic - perhaps sexual - undertones. Definintely admiration.

I like your description of his voice, but i feel his speech itself very clumsy. Most people say "We're here." (you're missing a fullstop/period)

I'm writing this as i read it, and yes it appears there are romantic undertones.

My mate will love you for the RCHP reference, and hell it's a good tune, fun bassline to play too tounge.gif

you're missing a lot of punctuation - i suggest reading through and amending it.

aside from that (and sorry it was rushed - im foking tired) it wasn't bad. I got a good feel for the brightness of the enviroment, though i think more detail could be indulged with in that respect - we're somewhere i a "perfect day" - but what's around us? Put me in the seat next to the narrator!

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