An Interview

[saltinespike]

"F*ck!" The vile word exploded into the air like a grenade. Jennifer was tearing apart her bedroom in a storm of frustration, leaving the room in a condition as if a hurricane had hit it. That problem was an obstacle for when she got home; for now, only one thing mattered in the world -- not the missed call from her boyfriend, not the jumbled "news" the television muffled, not even the fact that it was one of the 10 days of the year it rained -- all that mattered was that she was late, and had her major predicament lying right through her front windshield: traffic.

 

Her interview was scheduled in 15 minutes, and she was but 30 minutes from the meeting location. "Go, you bastard," she bellowed, aided by the panicked roar of her horn. She barely took any time to look before rushing through the 4-way stop and back behind the cautious driver in the SUV barely ahead of her. "It's a god damned 45, you jackass, not a 25! Ugh," was the only disgusted word she could use to describe her mood. She crossed the paired yellow lines in an attempt to go around the middle-aged man, but abruptly swerved back, as a red pickup truck squealed to an almost definite halt. The same panicked horn sounded off another long note, but to a sigh of shock and relief to the driver in the pickup.

 

The phone vibrated, muffling itself into the cushion of her passenger seat. The lights of the vigilant phone alerted her. Checking the time, she answered her boyfriend's call. "What can I do for you, hun?" she gritted through her enduring annoyance. This driver in front of her turned her into a racist as she sought every blemish of the incompetent prick she saw him to be. Her flashing lights had done it for him, though, and he swiftly pressed his foot to the brake. Continuing on, Jennifer scoffed from across the phone, "you Korean f*cker! This son-of-a-bitch just brake-checked me!"

 

"Please, don't be too crazy, babe. It's raining and the roads are slick as all hell. One mistake at high speed and you're tumbling." He was at work, watching a big accident unfold across the news. "Don't make one of my trips for you, sweetheart." She grumbled in correspondence but kept to speed her urgency in the important business matter. Slamming the phone shut, she checked the clock: 7 minutes.

 

I'm only 10 minutes from the place, so if I just hurry a little bit, I should-- sh*t! Her small Ford Focus nicked an Escalade and she lost her passenger side mirror. "Damn it," she wailed, but continued in her haste, now bitterly teary-eyed as she violently dashed down the near-empty road. 5 freaking minutes is what she calculated, now resorting to running stop signs as well as red lights. The pressure was fought in desperation as her GPS seemed to calmly scream at her, "1.5 miles." Ripping the damn thing from her windshield, she managed a short yelp before inevitably smashing into another car at an intersection, knocking her unconscious.

 

---

 

Coming to, shaky, her first instinct was to look at her clock, which was cracked in many spots, broken. A comforting voice powered through the deafening ring in her ears to inquire, "Good Lord, are you okay?"

 

"I... I... what time is it?" she investigated. His answer was the sign of doom to the exact minute. She hadn't gotten the job, which meant-- Her eyes frantically scrambled to her captured ankle. The beep that chanted from the device restricting her limb was evermore delerious. "You've got to go, go! Get the f*ck out of here, hurry! Get the hell away from--" The last thing she saw was the man's confused face, portrayed amongst the twisted frame of her window. The fires of hell enclosed her after that, and the man's ripe face turned into that of Lucifer's wicked grin.

Edited November 27, 2008 by saltinespike

[Wanted Assailant]

An appointment/interview with the devil? How clever and well-played. I love it.

[Lochie_old]

Extremely well-played, I haven't seen you post a story in ages

[Chickstick]

I've said this before, but your dialogue is excellent. A great re-introduction to WD.

[Eminence]

Nice piece, there were a few instances of description that I quite liked, especially the last couple of lines. It's a pretty effective ending, exploring something that's an extremely common thought yet providing us with an excellent image of it in quite a descriptive manner. Short, and sweet - another good one, I say.

 

As for a few slight errors and such...

 

Firstly, regarding numbers. It's total preference, but I find it's normally better to write them using words, seeing as that's what we're all about in the whole literature field. Leave numbers to those silly maths guys.

 

 

Her interview was scheduled in 15 minutes, and she was but 30 minutes from the meeting location.

 

Here, the usage of 'but' doesn't make contextual sense. To say 'she was but 30 minutes away' implies a shortness in distance - however, the reader is told that this is a large distance, as it is double the time she has remaining.

 

 

"It's a god damned 45, you jackass, not a 25! Ugh," was the only disgusted word she could use to describe her mood.

 

The dialogue here is a little awkwardly structured. Firstly, there's something else that doesn't make total sense - you say the 'only' word, yet it follows an entire sentence - the inclusion of the 'jackass' insult along with 'god damned' clearly convey her mood, even before the 'ugh' is mentioned. Furthermore, I wouldn't have used a comma to separate the dialogue from the attribution - if for no other reason than another exclamation mark would be more sufficient when describing her tone.

 

 

as a red pickup truck squealed to an almost definite halt.

 

Again, think of the sense. The use of these two fairly contradictory terms - 'almost definite', 'halt' - create an oxymoron, which doesn't really make full sense when you're trying to think about what the truck is doing. I get a slight sense of what you're saying - perhaps that it's still slightly rolling as it slows, but then this defeats the point of squealing to a halt, as these rigid and rugged movements wouldn't really be associated with the more uncertain description.

 

 

as she sought every blemish of the incompetent prick she saw him to be

 

I read over this again and again and couldn't really make full sense of it. I do get what you're trying to say, and maybe if I re-read it in a fresh manner I might make more sense of it... but as it is, something just seemed a bit off.

 

 

"I... I... what time is it?" she investigated.

 

Would make more sense as 'enquired'.

 

[Vercetti21]

I read this a few days back and didn't have the time to leave criticism. As others have said, it's good. Not your best piece, but it's a great addition to your collection of "short-and-sweet", descriptive works. The imagery in particular stood out to me in this one, I really liked that. Other than that, at times I felt like some of the emotion was a bit forced. She seems almost too anxious, so much that it's a bit unbelievable, leaving the reader (or maybe it's just me) disconnected from the protagonist. It's seen a bit more in the dialog rather than the narrative itself, so I'd suggest working on touching that up a bit as advice for your next piece.

[Neal40000]

quite good, entertaining too kept me reading.

[saltinespike]

Other than that, at times I felt like some of the emotion was a bit forced. She seems almost too anxious, so much that it's a bit unbelievable, leaving the reader (or maybe it's just me) disconnected from the protagonist. It's seen a bit more in the dialog rather than the narrative itself, so I'd suggest working on touching that up a bit as advice for your next piece.

This was kind of the point. It was not average meeting. She was rushing for one of two reasons (depending on reader perspective): one, she was meeting death at it's front door, in, oddly enough, a specific place, or she was trying to escape death from whoever attached an electronic explosive to her ankle.

 

Truth be told, the intended effect was the latter, in light of the new Transporter 3, where he has something similar going on, but he's not on a timer, but a distance... judgment... doohickey thing. Yeah. Just got through reading EndWar. Good book, inspired many new ideas for writing, so keep on the lookout everyone.