Beyond Remission - Poetic? Comments plz

dylan1969

And then that night she rose from her bed and peered out her window beyond the trees into a dense fog. Her mind wondered to and fro in soft dreamy thoughts prickled by nightmares. Her eyes shone even in the cold of night. Her mind was set beyond remission as she slowly made her way down stairs to the living room and stood facing the mirror. She could see the passing of time written on her face. Her lips slowly parted as she said to her refection, the word, "seeing".

A gush of wind slammed against the window next to her. She looked toward the window and saw that the fog had drifted to another place and began to think it may never have been there at all. She quietly opened the back door and made her way into the garden. Her white feet carefully navigated her way through the flowers to the back wall where she stood on an old rabbit hut to aid her climb the wall. She turned around and seen that none of the lights in her house were on before dropping down gently to the other side.

Usually on nights like this she would lay in bed and listen to the passers by chatting before being drown out by the sound of a siren in the distance or by the unsleeping wind, but her mind was set beyond remission and pulling her cloths tight to her chest she walked further into the silent night. A large black cat darted past her feet into the bushes across the road followed by a bottle smashing harmlessly on the pavement. A loud cheer rang out by a group of young men who threw the bottle at the cat and now saw the lonely women like a ghost in the silent night.

The group of young men approached the women and began to question her. What are you doing out this late? They said laughingly. The woman looked at them and momentarily thought that she might go home to her bed. Do you often go out at night miss? Where are you going to? She did not answer any of their questions which began to aggravate the young men. Fine! One man shouted, get lost and don’t answer us! The woman looked at him gravely and began to cry.

In the graveyard across the road an old man sat in grass drinking the last of his whiskey. He could hear the commotion of the young men just outside the graveyard behind the bushes but his attention was captured by a large black cat sitting next to a large granite gravestone underneath a grand old willow tree. He stood up and approached the large black cat whose piercing green eyes stared at him emotionlessly as he called out ‘here kitty, I have food for you’. But the cat became frightened as the man approached and ran off through the graveyard without a sound.

Underneath the old man in a large oak casing lay a dearly missed old man who never slept,
never to sleep again.

Any feed back is welcome

Thank you

Matt Holck

I like how the cat ties the picture together
but I've no clue what the old man and the young woman have in common
cept perhaps insomnia

dylan1969

Thanks for the comment I'm glad that you like it

Any more comment's??

Please feel free I'm very shy about writing I hope you understand

dylan1969

any more comments?

pauline fayne

hi dylan , i like your style of writing but i am not clear where you are going with this piece..
there seems to be no connection between the woman and the old man .
If this is a short story it is a bit too short ,- is it part of a novel that you are working on ?
or possibly a fragment that you havent decided what to do with yet ?
In any case I wish you the best of luck with your work . Pauline.

dylan1969

pauline fayne wrote: »

hi dylan , i like your style of writing but i am not clear where you are going with this piece..
there seems to be no connection between the woman and the old man .
If this is a short story it is a bit too short ,- is it part of a novel that you are working on ?
or possibly a fragment that you havent decided what to do with yet ?
In any case I wish you the best of luck with your work . Pauline.

Hi Pauline

Thank you for your comment

I know it is terribly short but I just wanted to know what it merits as a piece of writing, the story is not as important. I'm writing a novel at the moment and sometimes I'm not certain that readers will understand it like I do. I wrote it in the hope that you would like to read on and I feel that you would have because of your interest between the woman and the old mans connection. Thank you again Pauline and if there is any thing I can do to help you please don't hesitate to contact me.

pauline fayne

you are welcome Dylan . I know the feeling , have abandoned my proposed novel several times when a crisis of confidence sets in !