Two Bridges IV
July 23rd, 2011 § 9 Comments
Hey, I love this guy, Scribbla. You can find him on my newly installed blogroll that took me eleventy twenty hours to make which is why my blog is so plain and un-comp-saavy.
Fucking brilliant short stories that leaving you wishing he would just put in a LOT more.
He picks interesting prompts and reads interesting people. And yes, he always gives great feedback…
The last couple of days he has been kicking my ass with his talent. So I decided to reply. As did another very talented story write, Mike Jackson. So Scribbla started it, Mike replied, Scribbla responded and her I am sneaking in my two cents. I love to play. I miss Marian. Click Scribbla for parts I and III and the link to Mike is in the Scribbla post.
I am sure I could have written this way less complicated.
Two Bridges IV
“Father, I think this is best.” She had opened the safe and taken out the pieces of his weapon, seeking to rebuild, oil and clean it. It had aged gracefully, as only weapons and wines, well cared for, would
“ I think you forget, there are a lot of people over there who would kill to be in your shoes. All of us have forgotten that. And to send you? That’s utter madness.” Her father had long been in support of population control, sensible building plans, up, rather than out. He also supported stronger defensive measure. His own father had died in the Deadly Rash Attack, almost 50 years prior.
“I don’t think you need to doubt my skills father. You taught me well and school was long.” Ah, she is bitter, he thought. She continued in her work, happy to avoid his gaze.
“You arent going for any righteous cause.” He spat at her, angry at last. Why she he be discounted as crazy because he yearned for peace, did not have the desire to fight for his pristine life. If there are problems, throw them away, ignore them. But dig yourself in, practice peace and decency. He was oil and water. She was blood and venom, no longer hiding in the truck for fear of getting dirty.
“What?” Her eyes blazed and he regretted his words. But he would NEVER be bullied by a woman, never mind the fruit of his loins.
“YOU ARENT GOING FOR THE LAND.” He screamed, viciously. He was losing her now and it broke him, like an animal left to die is broken by the inevitability of its demise.
“I don’t understand.” But she did, and did nothing besides the release of false utterances to hide this.
“You are going to find HIM.” And he always knew the thoughts of his daughter, always had to after her mom was gone.
“Who.” Not a question, a statement as she walked away. There were fires burning. Things needed to move into the future quickly, and she had the surest of plans.
If she did find him, it was no one’s business anyway. And no one, not even she knew she would stay across the river with him, and become mightier than ever as the natural leader she was by fate’s selfish machination.
Oh, yes, yes, yes and yes.
Thank you so much for responding to this piece. I think you are an incredible writer, and I felt like a ghostly observer in the same room as these two, the mood you created was so potent and thick. In fact, even though you never describe the room, I know precisely what it looks like based on the way your characters interact. Marvelous.
The aging man and his life view is brilliant. I would never have thought of it. To bring us into the moment where years of strain are about to crack the relationship between him and his daughter… sheesh, what can I say. And she, the creation of him that now wishes to walk on her own. Classic.
Her journey felt at one point like it could have come out of Apocalypse Now. That is a fascinating thing.
Thanks for the kind words up front. And thank you again for this piece.
Im really glad you liked it. I find you brilliant.
It was a lot of fun to write. And since I knew Mike was fast, I wrote it immediately, with time pressure. Its like the story is just there. We are all describing the parts we see…
A great story Evelyn.
I thought the introduction of her father was a tremendous idea. Your words conveyed a strong image of the time between her being in her fathers truck in the the first part of the story to her now as a strong and bitter woman.
I got a strong sense that the old man was desperately trying to cling on to his daughter knowing all the time he had lost her to that strange young man on the other side.
A great read – thanks.
Thanks Mike!
It really felt like a natural progression from what you two had started to build.
more more!
I can’t believe I almost missed this piece of the story! Luckily, I found my way over because this is a tremendous addition to an already great story. You truly enhanced it with the introduction of the father and I love her character, the description “blood and venom” is perfect, love it. As both Mike and Andrew said, you are a strong writer with the ability to convey strong images. Fantastic, thanks!
Tis the infamous Indigo Spider! I have lurked on your site on more than one occasion, thank you so much for reading and for your kind words!
Infamous? Oh my! I did not realize I was infamous! No need to lurk, feel free to speak up, rant, rave, just say HI, I don’t bite
[...] by Short Stories, second Two Bridges III by Scribbla, third Two Bridges IV by Short Stories AND Two Bridges IV by Filling a Hole… stay tuned, who knows if the responses [...]
Oh my, a third POV! This is so great! To have all these differing POVs in one story makes it so much more immersive. Each bit’s pace gets hung with the switch to a new POV, therefore cranking up the tension. What a great technique.