Original Story - Forty Days
Aug. 4th, 2005 11:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
soeraOriginal Fiction
Rating: PG
Warnings: More strangeness inspired by the rain these days.
Forty Days
The arrival of rain is always preceded by a subtle shift in the air. There comes a sudden chill, a quick shiver. The trees protest against the wind which tries but fails to cut through them, leaves thrashing in sudden fury. Not so the cold that sweeps through the frail human body that quakes and runs for shelter.
But the rooms in school are cold, designed to keep out heat. So there are no heaters, only air-conditioners and fans. On a normal day, opening the doors might provide relief from an unaccustomed chill. But on days like these, the rain takes any route in, lashing through corridors and swiftly soaking the rows of closed doors. Barricades to protect the children. When the bell rings, it is met by a mixture of relief and apprehension. Relief, that escape from the freezing-cold room is possible. Apprehension because such an escape would be like jumping from a cold ice floe into the arctic waters below.
Then there are the rooms that aren't too cold. Certain ones where all the air-conditioning does is feed in extra air, the same temperature as the air outside. So the constant hum loses its threat, turns warm. Without the discomfort of the water and wind, it is easy to appreciate the cool air. In a land associated with heat and humidity, the kind of sticky heat that puts you into an uncomfortable sleep, any cool day is a source of relief.
But only without the rain. If it rains, we cannot go outside, cannot enjoy the coolness. We have to stay cooped up, always waiting. Watching through the windows for the rain to stop. Then sighing in disappointment when it doesn't.
The leaves dance on their branches, slick and shiny with clear drops of water. They spin, tumbling in the wind, breaking off and soaring on the wings of the wind. The drops of water roll off, not sparkling, not gleaming. Falling. Just falling. Buffeted, and eventually landing on the ground. Small grains of sand fly away from the impact, a brief moment of suspension. And the leaves carry on, still coated with a thinning layer of water.
A child looks up at the rain and laughs.
~fin
Rating: PG
Warnings: More strangeness inspired by the rain these days.
Forty Days
The arrival of rain is always preceded by a subtle shift in the air. There comes a sudden chill, a quick shiver. The trees protest against the wind which tries but fails to cut through them, leaves thrashing in sudden fury. Not so the cold that sweeps through the frail human body that quakes and runs for shelter.
But the rooms in school are cold, designed to keep out heat. So there are no heaters, only air-conditioners and fans. On a normal day, opening the doors might provide relief from an unaccustomed chill. But on days like these, the rain takes any route in, lashing through corridors and swiftly soaking the rows of closed doors. Barricades to protect the children. When the bell rings, it is met by a mixture of relief and apprehension. Relief, that escape from the freezing-cold room is possible. Apprehension because such an escape would be like jumping from a cold ice floe into the arctic waters below.
Then there are the rooms that aren't too cold. Certain ones where all the air-conditioning does is feed in extra air, the same temperature as the air outside. So the constant hum loses its threat, turns warm. Without the discomfort of the water and wind, it is easy to appreciate the cool air. In a land associated with heat and humidity, the kind of sticky heat that puts you into an uncomfortable sleep, any cool day is a source of relief.
But only without the rain. If it rains, we cannot go outside, cannot enjoy the coolness. We have to stay cooped up, always waiting. Watching through the windows for the rain to stop. Then sighing in disappointment when it doesn't.
The leaves dance on their branches, slick and shiny with clear drops of water. They spin, tumbling in the wind, breaking off and soaring on the wings of the wind. The drops of water roll off, not sparkling, not gleaming. Falling. Just falling. Buffeted, and eventually landing on the ground. Small grains of sand fly away from the impact, a brief moment of suspension. And the leaves carry on, still coated with a thinning layer of water.
A child looks up at the rain and laughs.
~fin
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no subject
Date: 2005-08-06 10:59 am (UTC)NOW the thing i liked the most: the very last line. it seems to say "look at all this thinking. a child would just enjoy it." and it's so startlingly out of place, and so fitting, that i like it!
no subject
Date: 2005-08-06 11:05 am (UTC)I don't think it was my best, no. I do think I'll be rewriting at least some parts of this so that they make more sense. Mostly I'm trying to get a feel for writing in the abstract. I dunno, did you get what the rain was supposed to symbolise? There was a meaning behind it I'm not sure I brought across very well. So no, I'm not quite there yet. I do need more work on writing in this style, don't I?
*hopes she sees something else that will inspire more so she can practise*
no subject
Date: 2005-08-08 05:11 am (UTC)After what she's said, whatever I have to say is going to sound infantile but here goes anyway:
Good writing should evoke emotions, and for me, that's the most important aspect of prose, poetry or drama. I'm happy to say that you've done it with this (for me anyway). I like the way you've written it - the overall feel is good. Especially the last line.
Now, I have to confess I don't know what you had in mind when you were writing this, but when I read it, I had this theme of time passing and bringing about change - everyone else wants the rain (change) to stop and for things to go back to normal, but the child (not yet bogged down by the worries of the world) is the only one who can truly be happy when it happens. My interpretation is probably not what you had in mind, but that's what I got.
Writing-wise, I think you could improve on the transition (chords! chords! aaargh!) from the 4th to the 5th paragraph. I just feel it's sudden and abrupt, but then again, so is change (haha). Is there a reason why you start your sentences with "but"?
I'm sorry I couldn't be more constructive *sheepish*
A child looks up at the rain and laughs.
Date: 2005-08-29 08:31 am (UTC)J