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The Last Cola


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One day i was laying outside relaxing in the sunlight. I was thirsty, So luckily i remembered that my dad bought a case of cola today. He didn't want me to drink them. He told me they were for him and for him only!. I figured he wouldn't mind if i drank only one. I sneaked inside the house, Opened the fridge, And there they were. The Cold, Refreshing cola's. I took one bottle of cola and brought it outside. I sat down and snickered as i twisted the cap off the bottle. I took a big swig of the cold cola. I took another big drink of the soda, And another, And another. After many big drinks of soda. I tried to drink some more. But nothing came out. The bottle was empty. I was still really thirsty. So i sneaked inside, Opened the fridge, And once again pulled out a cola. By then i forgot about what my dad told me. So i grabbed the whole pack of cola and went outside. Many minutes passed, And i drank all the soda's. I heard him from the inside of the house scream my name. I then thought about what he told me. He came outside, Looked at the empty bottles of cola, Then looked at me. He was really mad. His face was red, And you could tell i was going to get a BAD punishment. He came over to me, And asked me. Are you satisfied?, In a very angry tone. I then said under my breath. Im not thirsty anymore.

Edited by shaval5321
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It's rarely a good idea for you to get the reader to finish the story. I don't feel this is anywhere near as strong or tantalising for that to work. There's no cliffhanger here; a kid drinks cola, gets told off. No real tension or immersion, for me. It read more like a Facebook status than a story. No showing of the weather, make us feel the heat, the sun kissing our skin, warming the hair on our head like fried vermicelli noodles, hot to the touch. The parched throat, sticky lips and crow my voice. That cough you get where your throat feels like sandpaper. The tickling of sweat trickling down your cheek, causing you to flinch as sweat runs down your spine, the contradictory chill and shiver you get sometimes. The yellow sky, almost haziness in the air. The mirage of heat off the pavement. Then the sense of risk, of tension. Give us that, route us in the story more, and you can leave the end open.

 

It seemed rushed. Details missing, in-capitalised "I", incorrect apostrophes. There's little excuse for omitting a good edit, which this feels like it's missing. Too eager to post? That's fair enough. But funnily enough, like that first cola, this didn't quench my thirst

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