literature

My Falling

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Yesterday evening, something curious happened: I began my weekly falling, and two people walked right through the mess I made.

Every week, I would fall right on that street, because I love the sound it makes against the cobblestones and the quietness that settles because the people are too afraid to walk through it. I would pull everything I had together, just so that I could drop it all once a week and laugh at how all the little humans would scurry for cover while the trees would smile and open their leaves. And it was always fun, especially when my friend Flash came over – she loves to dance down and see how close she can get to the bottom without falling all the way. To this day, she only fell once, and there’s a little bruise near the bench where she fell.

But yesterday evening, Flash couldn’t make it, and I just went ahead and started my falling, humming along with the leaves below. But I almost stopped when I saw that there were two humans taking a quiet stroll through the clatter, not bothered at all by the cold. Everyone else had bolted for cover, but these two curious folk seemed quite oblivious.

Piqued, I crouched closer, inadvertently falling a little harder. As I peered at them, one of the people sidled closer to other, and said in a deep voice, “You know, your mother used to love the rain. Sometimes, she’d sit outside on that tree stump over there, by the bench, and just listen. She used to say that the trees would sing with pleasure after a week of nothing.”

I remember that one… she was peculiar, like these two – she would always visit once a week and just sit where Flash fell. Her eyes would be closed and she would sometimes hum along with me. I used to like her, but one day, she never came, and she hasn’t since.

The smaller figure put a short arm around her father. “Do you miss her, daddy?” They continued walking slowly through the square, and I lessened my falling to a drizzle.

The man didn’t answer for a moment, but, upon reaching the stump, he stopped and stroked it. After a moment, he said, “I do, princess. But I try to remember that she went away with a smile on her face. She always told us to keep moving forward, right? And sometimes it’s easier to do that when we’re near her presence.”

The little girl mulled that over for a moment, before turning luminous eyes towards his reminiscing face. “Do you think she’s here now, daddy? I want to see her…I…miss her!” Her small face crumpled into tears, and I began to fall harder to drown out the heart-wrenching sound as well as my own sadness.

Her father hoisted her up, and brushed away the tears gently. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry. Listen, mommy’s watching us right now, and she’s sitting right here listening to the rain as she used to. But she’s happy because she gets to see her beautiful little girl! But if you cry, it’ll make her sad. Here, do you want to sit with her?” She nodded her tiny head, and he lifted her onto the stump.

“There, just like old times, right? With you sitting on mommy’s lap and me telling the two of you stories…” He trailed off, tears coming to his own eyes.

“Daddy, don’t cry!” She threw her little arms around him, little fists holding tightly to his coat.

He didn’t say anything, but hugged her close and wiped away the tears from his water-soaked face.

And I could do nothing but watch helplessly. I couldn’t even leave to lament elsewhere, because this little family had my heart stuck in the middle of their wishful hug. It has always been said that it was wrong to get caught in mortal affairs, but I had tied myself to this family and their loss without ever meaning to, and the knots were unbreakable.

“Come on, love, let’s go home.” He lifted his daughter up, and her arms clamped instinctively around his neck, while her small head lay against his shoulder. She did not remove her sight from the stump until they had passed the corner, and I pattered out, empty.
this story was inspired by *ProsePlease's prompt for this month, and the task was: "Write a story from the point of view of something that would not normally have thoughts, let alone be the main character in a story. Basically, use personification to turn something everyday into a masterpiece!"

i actually quite like this piece, even though i was mostly asleep when i first wrote it. little edits since, for typos and such.

let me know if there's anything that needs tweaking, particularly with coherency (is it confusing?), structure, and wording. and, of course, anything else you might notice.
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Critique-It's avatar
:star::star::star::star-empty: Overall
:star::star::star::star-half::star-empty: Vision
:star::star::star::star-empty::star-empty: Originality
:star::star::star::star-empty::star-empty: Technique
:star::star::star::star::star-empty: Impact

Hey there! I'm =choirsoftheheavens from *Critique-It and I'm here to give you the critique that you requested this month.

To start off, I'd like to express my sincerest apologies for having this in so late! With NaNoWriMo on, I guess it's needless to say that I've sold my soul to finishing that 50000 words! But I digress...

I'll give you some general comments first. I liked this. I really did. The gentleness of the telling, coupled together with the unique and original choice of first-person narrator, every little detail you had just made me love this even more. Given that this was such a lovely piece to start with, I'll just have to come down harder on you, to make sure I live up to the expectation of a “two-sided review”.

Your first paragraph struck me, and kept me with you for the rest of the way. The deliberate vagueness with which you told it made me anxious to find out what you were, and what you were talking about. However, the “I began my weekly falling” sounds a bit too awkward for the reader to think that you're a human being (if, of course, you're trying to mislead us). Maybe a more lighthearted start would contrast better with the less-than-happy events of the day that follows, for example “I began my casual descent, and two people wandered right into the mess I made.”?

I love the second paragraph. I think the way you told it was amazing, and you deserve a clap for that. Just a few minor nigglies that I'd like to bring to your attention, whether or not you choose to rectify them, because they don't really hinder the reading of this. You repeat words a lot, like “week” and “fell”. For “week”, I know it's hard to paraphrase that, because there's not many synonyms which you can use. But maybe you could say something, “Every so often, I would fall...”. As for the word “fall/fell”, I can suggest, for the various blanks, keeping the first fall on your first line, “tumbling down”, “slipped up”, “a little bruise near the bench where it happened”. But again, these are just tiny observations. Nothing really big. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="15" height="15" alt=":D" title=":D (Big Grin)" /> Also, I absolutely love the idea of “Flash”. It's brilliant, honestly.

As for the third paragraph, there's nothing much that I can say about it. It's quite a good transition, not too abrupt. Just the first line, instead of “and I just went ahead...”, I suggest “so, I just went ahead...”. It's a slightly more appropriate transition word. Also, you repeat the word “but” twice; maybe the first one can be “However”? I know I'm coming down harsh on you because of this, but again, I'm just trying to give you what little feedback I can for a piece that's already quite quite amazing.

Continuing on, piqued is usually used in the context of “my interest/curiosity was piqued” and not so much in direct relation to the person. So perhaps you could insert a “Curiosity” in front of piqued? But after this, gosh, I have nothing to say that's remotely bad about it. I keep looking for potential places for improvement, but my mind just rushes me through the story again and I get that fuzzy feeling I only get with really great stories. D: Sorry I'm not too much help for the next bit.

Just as a general comment about your dialogue; I enjoy it. It's quite realistic, fitting. But, one thing. The father mentions that “it's easier to do that when we're near her presence.”. I know what you're trying to get at, that when the father and daughter sit where she used to sit, there's a sense of closeness there, but the way it's conveyed is a little strange. The word presence isn't very fitting; even though it does get your point across. Perhaps a “it's easier to do that when we're listening to the rain, doing what she did.”?

No problems after that, just some word choices that I found a little odd. “wrong to get caught in mortal affairs”-->”human affairs”? And “the knots were unbreakable”-->”the bond”? These are all very slight, I must reiterate again, but I decided that I'd give you a more thorough critique, first because I made you wait so long, and secondly because you've given me a great story that I've read over so many times, wondering how in the world I'd critique something that was already so good.

Yep, that's all from me. I wish you all the best in your future writing endeavours and hope that my critique has helped, however slight that aid may be. I'll be on the look out for more awesomeness like this piece!

=choirsoftheheavens