Feedback

Hi

Just wondering if anyone would like to give me some feedback on this (really) short story.


As I turned into the drive he was standing there in the doorway. Waiting. Watching. Judging. With the exception of a few more wrinkles the look on his face was the same one he had fifteen years ago the time I told him about my choice of major. The most disapproving man in the world.

Deep Breaths. Count to ten. I opened the door to my latest purchase. A green, second hand Japanese automobile. Twelve years old. Two previous owners.

“Hi”, I said as I stepped out. “What do you think of her?”
“How’s it going” he muttered as he approached the car. “What color is that supposed to be?”

He walked around the car. Taking in every detail. Looking her up and down. My Dad knows very little about auto mechanics. But he knows I know even less. Three times he tapped each wheel with his size 11 moccasins. Ha, I wanted to say. I had done that when I bought it. Everyone knows to kick the tyres. It makes you look in the know. He sighed and scratched the back of his head as he ran his fingers along the paintjob.

He questioned me as he looked at the engine. For what, I’m not sure.
“ Is it a diesel engine? That means you can’t but petrol in it! What‘s its milage? Was the salesman foreign?”
His mouth agape at my answers. When I responded to his enquiry about the price he scoffed.
“Had they big windows?”

I’m a grown man. I know actual mechanics. But I still decided to give him a call when I bought the car. Its good for us. He gets to think he still knows best. And besides. If he wasn’t giving out, he’d probably just sit around missing mum.
I noticed the complaining getting worse since the funeral. He complained about the egg sandwiches at the wake. He complained about the state of the bathrooms in the funeral home. He complained about the size of the knot in my tie. He liked to complain.

As he slammed the bonnet shut he asked me if I wanted a cup of tea.
“Sure” I said, walking up the steps of the porch entering through the hall door.
“ And will you take a look at the computer, I can’t get on to my online bingo”
“I’ll take a look but I can’t promise anything” I felt like I was pleading for leniency.
“Didn’t you go to college?” was the answer he liked to trot out on these occasions
“Yea, I studied art appreciation” I tried to defend myself.
“I know” he said. And I saw that look. One more time.

Outburst

It's a fairly straight forward piece, very plausible - does a good job of imitating life. I like it.

pickarooney

I liked it a lot. Very readable and true-sounding. I'd definitely read more.

Couple of small observations.
"automobile" and "color" seem out of place.
What are 'actual' mechanics?

Thanks guys.

The 'actual' mechanics thing doesn't work looking at it again. It should read that the son knows car mechanics (people who fix cars) but, yea thats probably not very clear.


As for the automobile and color usage, do you mean they just don't sit in the flow of the story?

To be honest they wouldn't alway be my first choice of words but I was working under certain criteria which meant they were the best option.

pickarooney

I just mean 'color' is an American spelling and 'automobile' is either American or too high-register for the context.

Great thanks.

Its actually written with americans in mind, so thats a good thing

pickarooney

jayhaitch2 wrote: »

Great thanks.

Its actually written with americans in mind, so thats a good thing

Not when you use 'petrol' rather than 'gas' and 'bonnet' instead of 'hood'. Consistency is important, even if the details of it are trivial.