This site will self destruct in 2 months, March 17.
It will come back, and be familiar and at the same time completely different.
All content will be deleted. Backup anything important.
--- Staff
Roleplay Cloud -
 

Sign up to EliteSkills




Already have an account? Login to Roleplay.Cloud
Forgot password? Recover Password

Chipped Wine Glass


Author: EternitysLyre
ASL Info:    20/M/Taiwan.
Elite Ratio:    7.13 - 152 /170 /42
Words: 262
Class/Type: Prose /Misc
Total Views: 1283
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 1468



Description:


There's a house, with a lady, with a sign no one seems to notice:
Warning: Fragile contents within.


Chipped Wine Glass



She was alone, kneeling on her favorite space in the hallway. Singing to herself softly, like she always did, as she bent over to pick up another piece. She would have them all, sooner or later, and life would go on. The shards never came quite together the same way, and it never seemed as rich a red as it once was, but beggars can’t be choosers, like the quiet smile across her lips.
It was funny, and at the same time less and less so with every piece, careful not to get cut on the sharp edges. Her fingers slipped, but she continued; after all, it was nothing. Cuts and scrapes were nothing at all. She shooed the thought away, for dreams were venomous, and thoughts would poison her smile, her song.
Her smile. From beginning to end, the only thing she’d kept. Her cheeks tugged gently at the corners of her mouth, a rich-red crescent as finespun as silk. Even when his silhouette had faded permanently into the translucent window, even when the door had violently slammed shut. Not even when the shattering wasn’t half as loud as it was supposed to be, when the neighbors didn’t come rushing in to rescue her. Her throat choked, her breath shook; it had taken her a while to pick up that first piece, on her knees. It had taken another four to re-sweeten her throat. But she was singing again, and that was all she needed.

She would put her heart back together. Every last piece.




Submitted on 2005-02-26 20:51:06     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
Edit post

Rate This Submission

1: >_<
2: I dunno...
3: meh!
4: Pretty cool
5: Wow!




Comments


  I really enjoyed this. I had no idea where it was going until the very end. Good job, that.

There was one tiny part, just four words, that I thought were great - you could write a whole other story about just them - 'for dreams were venomous'. Some people are afraid to dream because their hearts could be broken and they'd have to kneel on the floor and pick up the pieces.

I don't necessarily think the title goes with it, but it does make you want to read it to see what the title means. On the whole, I thought you did an amazing job with this. A fav. mae
| Posted on 2005-02-27 00:00:00 | by mae | [ Reply to This ]
  There are a lot of things I like about this piece, actually, and that doesn't happen too often for me. I like the use of the wine glass and how you used the imagery of red to compare the two. It's interesting how the steady act of picking up something as simple as a broken glass is compared to the life long act of putting back together the demolished fragments of our lives. You know your going to break another someday, yet it always seems to happen at the moment that the last thing you are thinking about, is dropping that piece. We do it over and over again, but do we ever learn our lesson? I suppose that depends on the individual you are, and to me, that's what this piece brings out. This individual is singing steadily like she always does. Maybe that's her way of coping, maybe she's so used to this it's just another day for her.

I think that's very interesting, and I love the way it's represented in this work. It could just be the way I percieve it, or it could be the way many others do. But I think a big challenge for a writer is to make something that everyone can relate to, even if they haven't experienced it yet. Of course you usually want that person who's been through the same scenarios as you, but there isn't as much to learn there, in my opinion. I'm not sure what you want out of this, but it's had a small impact on me. And that's more than I can say for most. Thanks for posting.
| Posted on 2005-02-27 00:00:00 | by majinkenshinamv | [ Reply to This ]
  She was alone, kneeling on her favorite space in the hallway. Singing to herself softly, like she always did, as she bent over to pick up another piece. She would have them all, sooner or later, and life would go on. The shards never came quite together the same way, and it never seemed as rich a red as it once was, but beggars can’t be choosers, like the quiet smile across her lips.
It was funny, and at the same time less and less so with every piece, careful not to get cut on the sharp edges. Her fingers slipped, but she continued; after all, it was nothing. Cuts and scrapes were nothing at all. She shooed the thought away, for dreams were venomous, and thoughts would poison her smile, her song.
Her smile. From beginning to end, the only thing she’d kept. Her cheeks tugged gently at the corners of her mouth, a rich-red crescent as finespun as silk. Even when his silhouette had faded permanently into the translucent window, even when the door had violently slammed shut. Not even when the shattering wasn’t half as loud as it was supposed to be, when the neighbors didn’t come rushing in to rescue her. Her throat choked, her breath shook; it had taken her a while to pick up that first piece, on her knees. It had taken another four to re-sweeten her throat. But she was singing again, and that was all she needed.

She would put her heart back together. Every last piece.



Reading this I can't help but feel a LITTLE bit intrigued; there were alot of great images and word combinations that I enjoyed "...to re-sweeten her throat...", but overall I felt that the entirty of the piece reads way too fast and lacks a feeling of suspense or entrapment, something created in part by the use of dramatic pause and 'filler' sentences that wander about forcing your mind to forget for one second the drama that's unfolding in the rest of the story.

overall, it seems like this has been edited too much mr hemmingway...so much that its lost its flow and its hold on the reader...

dont get me wrong..the images and the story and the sentence structure and diction are all PERFECT, but in my opinion they cant/wont stand alone

rain
| Posted on 2005-02-27 00:00:00 | by raincloud | [ Reply to This ]
  I really enjoyed this piece. I felt like I was in an art gallery looking at an oil painting. I loved the way it was presented, it's like you're looking at a picture and slowly you begin to notice the little nuances that turn it completely around from your initial interpretation. Well done.
-Light
| Posted on 2005-02-27 00:00:00 | by Lightbringer | [ Reply to This ]
  "quite together the same way" = together quite the same way
It was a beautiful description! I absolutely love the way that you told the story. I really don't know what to say because I really loved it. It would be nice to see it lengthened, maybe build on the character and story.
| Posted on 2005-03-01 00:00:00 | by HaldirLives | [ Reply to This ]
  A very unique piece. Intense imagery, and excellent diction. I like your ability to make it a bit unclear as to what EXACTLY happened, but leaves it up to the reader. Your last lines usually tell it all, and this one certainly did. Very nice work.

Sarah
| Posted on 2005-03-05 00:00:00 | by Deadly Sauce | [ Reply to This ]


Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

1. Be honest.
2. Try not to give only compliments.
3. How did it make you feel?
4. Why did it make you feel that way?
5. Which parts?
6. What distracted from the piece?
7. What was unclear?
8. What does it remind you of?
9. How could it be improved?
10. What would you have done differently?
11. What was your interpretation of it?
12. Does it feel original?



48402