Another Chance

TerrorFirmer

Of course. opinions welcome. Its a very vague general piece, even though I had some sort of back story worked out in my own mind...




The door opens earlier then I had anticipated; she’s home. Five minutes earlier and things might have been different but as it is, I hastily straighten myself up in the chair in an effort to look somewhat presentable.

“Hey,” she says slowly as she sees me, not wholly unfriendly as I had anticipated but certainly expectant of an explantion.

“Your friend let me in as she was leaving,” I say casually, for a second wondering if the slight tremor in my voice is audible, and more worrying, real or part of my act. “I was just watching a movie.” I add, almost instantly realising not only is the television switched off, the remote is beyond my reach on the glass coffee table in the middle of the wooden floor.

“Right.” She says, but her mouth opens into a shy, if slightly puzzled, smile. The tension in my chest loosens. The situation is credible, at least, she seems to think so.

She reaches into a press for a glass and fills it with water from the sink. For a brief second the only sound in the apartment is the tiny roar of the water cascading into the glass.

“I thought I told you not to come back here,” She says eventually, resting her glass on the counter and walking slowly towards me. “If my boyfriend catches you here he’ll kill you.”

I don’t doubt for a second that the implication is literal. I broke the guys nose a few weeks ago.

“I just can’t stay away.” I offer with a smile.

She hastily strips off her trench coat, discarding it to the floor before she sits down on the chair opposite mine. “Don’t be so” – she pauses briefly – “****ing smart,” she scowls as she leans close to me across the table and takes a drink of water.”Tell me why you’re here or get out.”

“Okay.” I say, straightening up for the second time. I line up the lapels of my jacket, dust off my trousers to the knees and run a hand through my oily hair. I reach for a cigarette and deliberate momentarily before reaching for my lighter, which incidentally, isn’t there. I look up to ask for one.

If looks could kill.

“Never mind,” I smile as I tuck the cigarette back into the inside of my jacket, “I’m trying to quite anyway.” I lean closer. “I’m here for business. Not pleasure.”

She barely lets me finish before raising her finger. “Not interested.”

“Really?” I ask innocently, unsure if she knows I’m mocking her. “Why?”

“I don’t owe you any explanations, so you can shove whatever it is you’re trying to peddle.” She replies stonily.

I settle back into the chair. “Well, this isn’t quite what I expected,” I lie, having had anticapated the reponse more or less word for word,“I though you might be interested – purely from a business aspect, of course.”

“Not the first time you’ve thought wrong” she says, “And I doubt it’ll be the last either.”

“You’ve changed. Principles before money? Not the girl I know – knew.” I smile.

“People change,” she says dully, “Maye you should too. I doubt the world would mourn the loss.”

“Funny girl.” I reply, for the first time unsure of what exactly to say. Sometmes the most simplistic of words get to me. “You got a drink?” I eventually manage.

For a second the dark look crossing her face suggests inevitable abuse, but it passes and her steadfastness is broken. There are those situations where the effort put in outweights the results, and this is clearly one of those times; it may not have been a beautiful friendship but at least we know each others limits.

“Sure.” She says and walks over to the kitchen, opening a press. The clinking of glasses is followed by the gentle swirl of alcohol being carefully poured.

A glass is placed in front of me; what’s in it, I can’t tell, and quite frankly, don’t care. She sits down just as I stand up. I take a sip of my drink, momentarily enjoying the taste before it slips down my throat like liquid fire, bringing water to my eyes.

“God,” I croak, “That tastes like crap.” It’s the first truthful thing I’ve said so far. I lean over and put the glass back on the table, my eyes still smarting. I don’t even like alcohol.

I walk around in a small circle, patiently awaiting a breaking of the silence that hangs in the room. It doen’t happen. It’s not as uncomfortable a situation as it sounds but nonetheless I’m a man working within a limited time frame.

I walk behind her chair and place my hands on the back of it, looking up towards the ceiling. I let out a deliberate sigh, but it feels genuine. I feel frustrated, doubtful; things I don’t normally feel when approaching business.

“It’s a bit warm for gloves, don’t you think.” She says finally, as she half glances in my direction.

I crouch down and use my arms to swivel her chair towards me, bringing us face to face. Her face is more gaunt then I last remembered, her cheekbones slightly sunken, her jawline more promient. Still pretty; just different.

This time the pause is uncomfortable. Hesitation would be disasterous; without further deliberation I reach out and place my hand on the side of her face. The effect is not quite as electric as I expected. She calmly takes my hand away but continues to hold it loosely in her own.

“I told you not to come back.” She says, both her face and voice void of tell tale emotion.

“And I told you I can’t stay away.” I reply.

Again with the pause, but this time, it’s not my move.

“Never say never,” She smiles, revealing a row of perfect white teeth, “but you really shouldn’t have come back.” The smile fades and she lets go of my hand.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she says huskily and gets up from the chair, “We’ll talk more about this in a few minutes.”

“Yeah,” I reply, watching her as she makes her way to the hallway, “Sure.”

I spend the next few minutes looking at photographs on the wall. Amanda with friends, Amanda with boyfriend, Amanda with everybody left right and center. Everybody but me. All these pictures are recent, too - pictures highlighting a new life. A new start.

A toilet flushes and I glance towards the doorway as footsteps approach. She’s already talking as she walks in the door, her face flushed, he head cocked to one side.

“Tell me what it is you want to tell me-“ she starts.

I raise the silenced 9mm Beretta I’m holding in my hand and fire at point blank range before she even realises what’s going on. The bullet passes straight through her throat , painting the wall behind her with a splash of crimson gore as she drops like a stone.

She’s not dead. She writhes on the ground, gouts of blood squirting from between the fingers clasped feebly around her neck. Her eyes stare at me helplessly, as her mouth open and closes like a fish. She tries to say something and produces a thick gargle that descends into a disturbing whistling sound coming from her punctured windpipe.

“Business, not pleasure.” I say before standing up and firing three successive shots into her chest.

For a brief moment, it almost feels like a wave of sadness is about to overwelm me. It passes; as it always does, even if this time is somewhat different.

I’m an ambitious person. Career driven.

The money – the job - comes first.

Iapetus

I really like it, and I agree with you in that it is quite vague. Especially to start with, but by the end we have some kind of idea what has gone on. I think it would work better within a larger piece, in that if the reader knew the characters a bit more the dialogue in the beginning would have more meaning.

But on the whole you should be proud of it!

AppleBack

LOL, I'm not sure wheater I should laugh or feel shocked to be honest. I do know I like it though.

Blush_01

I like it. It needs a bit of work - it's a bit wordy at the beginning (I do that too, drives me crazy, but adjectives are not always my friends!), but what you have there is good. As has already been pointed out, you could flesh it out at either end.

I look forward to reading more of your stuff.

shiv

Wow! What a bolt from the blue. Didn't see that one coming...

You write really well and I like the way you get right under the surface.

Please post more

Wow.

Fantastic.

You're gripped throughout the story by what is going to happen next, and the ending is just completely out of the blue. Fantastic.

Demetrius

It wasnt going the way I thought it would. A bit of a shocker but cool.

Earthhorse

HavoK,

You posting in the other thread has reminded me I meant to critique this!

/rolls up sleeves

I think the piece reads really well. It's a bit short but what's there reads well.

My major complaint is one founded largely in pedantry: if you're going to right a piece this good at least have the decency to right it correctly. Your one weakness appears to be coming in and out of dialogue with commas and capitalisation all over the place. It might sound like a small point but it really hampered my enjoyment of the story. You wouldn't right a great guitar riff and then record it on sh*tty guitar would you?

Now, I don't usually do plot critiques but two things stood out. One, as soon as you mentioned that he was wearing gloves I sussed he was killer. This isn't a major problem as most readers didn't seem to, so you can skip this if you like, but you might want to make the whole glove thing a little more subtle.

Two, why would a killer who has taken the care to wear gloves throughout the encounter, leave his DNA on the rim of a glass by drinking from it? Sorry, but these are modern times and that point came immediately to me when reading the story.

It's a fairly small flaw though. I think the major thing to take out of this is that the piece is well written.

Paladin

Earthhorse wrote:

My major complaint is one founded largely in pedantry: if you're going to right a piece this good at least have the decency to right it correctly.

LOL
I love irony


Good writing. Take the time to write something longer. I think it would be enjoyed.

I don't see why people are giving out about the story length. Adding anything else into the story would just be filler really.. nothing more! It's the perfect length for the type of story, and it fits the basic rhythm of it to a key!

TerrorFirmer

Yes I will admit my weakness is inconsistancy. I have a mind for creativity but that said my mind wanders after I write no more then maybe 20 pages, so I inevitabely end up starting something else, messing around with this, and that - I never properly proof read my stuff, nor do I really analyse it for glaring inconsistancies like you've mentioned - like the DNA, which is a perfectly valid and furthermore obvious point, but I just didn't even think about it.

I just wrote the piece, and by about half way through, I was bored and my mind was drifting to something else. Short stories are my thing, unfortunately, I cannot stick to writing anything substanial. I know what I like, and I write what I like; unfortunately this often leads to people not quite getting what I'm trying to do, is it a story? An extract? Because when I say short story, my "short stories" I suppose are really nothing more then extracts from a larger picture - which sadly doesn't actually existanywhere other then the back story I've created in my mind and neglected to feature in the story itself

Anyway, thanks for all the feedback everyone - most I've ever gotten! Alot of my stuff slips away without a single comment...:D

Outcast

I really like it, it has a great flow and the dialogue is natural, which can be pretty tough to pull of in a piece like this.

Two points, they're minor but you might want to consider them. Firstly you use anticipated three or four times, twice in close succession at the start. Maybe you could sub in different words.

Secondly "A toilet flushes and I glance towards the doorway as footsteps approach. She’s already talking as she walks in the door, her face flushed, he head cocked to one side."
Shoud you really use flush twice? It made me think you were comparing her face to a toilet.

Nice work though!