A critique of a (very) short story sought :)

Mario007

Hey guys, It's been a while since I posted over here. Recently I got into a mood to write a very short story and I was wondering if you could offer me some critique on it. Since it's short I'm posting it here, thanks:


As your fingers cross and curl you take the first step. Your heart starts pacing, sending waves of heat into your fingertips and cheeks, fighting off the cold you have for so long. As she mimics your moves your eyes can just about make out the smile her lips curled into in the darkness that surrounds you. Yet as soon as her eyes try to make the contact, you quickly look down at your own feet, suddenly reminded that every move they make is as crucial as it is complex.

And so you dance, your right hand holding hers left in the air, her right on your shoulder and yours left completing the picture as it touches the smooth red dress under her shoulder. Your heart no longer paces as you realize how right this is, how you were born to be in this same situation, dancing with her and how the cold you felt just a couple of minutes ago can no longer conquer you.

So the song goes, the sensual piano notes almost echoing everywhere around you with the accompanying chords there to reinforce its magic. Once the violin enriches the melody your heart posses your sane mind as you raise your hand, along with hers, and twirl her back and forth underneath. It is now your lips that cannot help but form into a smile and your eyes finally meet her two diamonds that sparkle with joy. As your heart trembles and quakes your only wish is that this would last forever. Your confidence grows and you know very well what you want to, need to, have to do. So you move your head closer to hers, wanting only to close the gap between your lips so they can finally touch and never to let go.

Yet as the song ends and you have a minute to catch your breath; your sanity approaches. You see her still standing there but your fingers begin to uncurl. The mind races now, sending out its cavalry against the poor troops of your heart that get crushed without mercy. As the cold approaches again, you know this will never last as the night must once end and the music must get silenced by the morning.

A new song starts to play, with bass line that shakes the floor, synths and words that make even the holiest man feel dirty. You turn away from her only to see your new saver. She moves slowly toward you, turns around and starts sliding up and down on your body as your heart starts to pace again. She raises her arm and you feel her warm hand touching the back of your neck as you start to mimic her movers and whisper the lyrics to her. And as you touch her on the side of her belly any sign of the cold is gone.

And so you dance, as close to each other as is possible and the song goes, the same verse repeating sporadically in between the dubstep that underscores the sexophone hook. She turns around to you, smiles in a way only she can and makes you smile right back. As if repaying the favour, she moves her head to the side of your head and whispers three words to you, interlinking the only two pronouns that matter now.

Your mind is once again defeated as instead of returning back to her previous position she instead uses the close proximity of your faces to connect with your lips. Your hands automatically slide down to her butt cheeks, your eyes close and the music is no longer relevant because the time has stopped as you two stand there, each tongue helping the other with a massage that accompanies the passion. In that time capsule you will last forever.

But your eyes sharply open as you realize just how you got yourself sealed away from time, bursting the capsule. The impact of the explosion, the pressure wave that it creates, pushes her away and your mind applauds your eyes. You realize the song has ended again, its spell, the one that made even the most holly made feel dirty, is finally broken.

The DJ doesn’t rest, though, and plays another number reminding you how cold it is around you. But before it can mount any sort of offensive your two eyes meet four more as your heart, on its fights against the cold, immediately sets to recruit these two warrior princesses. They come to you, each takes one of your hands and enchants a smile on your face yet again.

And so dance, turning from one to the other, and the song goes, verse after verse, chorus after chorus. You can feel the droplets of sweat on your forehead as your legs and arms try their best to keep up with your newest two recruits that stand before you.

Without warning, one leans in and kisses your softly, sending your heart pumping for the third time tonight. The brief moment leaves you wanting more but already she moves her lips away from yours and continues dancing, smiling the only way she can. Just as suddenly a duplicate is formed as the second princess lets you experience exactly what you did a few brief seconds ago. A complete de ja vu plays before your eyes, as the two smile at each other and the smile at you and your lips, again, curl up.

In the darkness behind them, though, you see a girl in a smooth red dress looking at you. And as your heart stops for the longest second in your life, and your body freezes along with it, the cold finally finds its break through your walls and not even the two princesses before you can fight it off. The only one who could is standing behind them and your legs automatically push you towards her. Before you can even reach her though, your mind signals them to stop as your eyes can no longer see the smile on her face that would melt away the icicles that start forming on your body.

A new song starts, signalling a new chance to warm your body, from the very bones that now accommodate the cold. You look around for any new recruits that would aide you in your fight. You lock onto the newest in the line of warrior princesses, move over to her and feel warmth returning to your body. She is your saviour for this song.

And so the songs go, verse after verse, chorus after chorus. The cycle continues until the light blinds your eyes. The night has ended; the overpowering silence of people’s voices quashes any songs that could be playing in the background. And as you slowly half-open one of your eyes you realize how empty the dance floor is now. And so you just stand there.

Cold.

MrThrifty

You want critique?! I stopped reading during the second paragraph - partially because I was only half-interested in this thread to begin with, but also because of what appeared to be consistent punctuation and grammar errors. The former seems more prevalent, particularly a lack of commas (e.g. "the melody your heart posses your sane mind"). I could be wrong in my judgement here as I am not a 'writer', but if the lack of a comma means that the sentence can be misinterpreted then that's an issue in my book. Even the opening sentence appears at fault here (i.e. "fingers cross and curl you") - presumably there should be a comma after "curl".

So apologies that this critique is focused on grammar of all things and not the actual story - however, when you're talking short stories, then grammar does become important as every sentence and associated meaning is significant.

Mario007

not at all, thanks a lot for your input. Since English is my second language (though i've been speaking it for 8 years now) punctuation is something that I've always had a bit of a trouble with so thanks a lot for pointing that out. I'll go through it all again

alfa beta

hey mario - it's just too difficult to read - it's too forced - the sentences need to be shorter, sweeter, simpler - more intuitive - the reader needs to 'get it' without having to go back over it - the words should flow like the dance you're describing - you've a lot of work to do imo.

here's an idea - write that same piece in your native language, then get a very very very good translator to translate it, then post both versions up here and see what people think.

oh, and don't use the term 'butt cheeks'!!!

gubby

I'm sorry,, I just didnt get it at all and I have the same problem with grammer etc but I still dont know who he was? someone once told me that when you are writing anything you ask yourself 3 questions. who? where? whats happening? and then your reader has to know the answers too.

deyo

Mario007 wrote: »

I was wondering if you could offer me some critique on it.

Mario,

“(yet) as” and “so” are used too many times IMO, and I'd definitely change structure of many sentences.

It looks to me like counting (“want to, need to, have to do”), and I just can't get into the story. What's the story about at all?
Then, if you hadn't mentioned (accidentally) a DJ at one place, I would have thought they were in intimacy of their room. Why is the floor empty at the end? To whose empty sole it is related, I can't recognize.

What's happening with the “heart”, so often used? I was expecting a heart attack while reading.

Music is playing in the background, but what kind of music? Is it Apache drums and screaming or something like '...blissful melody of Viennese Waltz carries them in trance...”? “A new song”, “songs go”, “music” etc. is just not enough for me to fully enjoy the atmosphere, if any.

Btw. I'm not native English speaker either - I’ve been using it 'actively' for half a shorter than you - and struggle with it very much, but one should do their best in using any language in public. Especially if we want to be read...

DaneScott

Barring some grammar issues, that can easily be sorted and I reckon everyone who writes at least suffers a bit of, there's a nice feeling to this, if it was cleaned up and some bits seemed a bit less rushed it'd be a solid piece I reckon. That's just my opinion though.