A reworked piece. All comments/suggestions appreciated.
RANES They’d wheeled him to the shaded corner of the lounge. Motionless, he watched the sun pierce the window, its spear of light shrinking as afternoon drew long. From somewhere, a cough, rasping, like the final throes of a dead man. A pain punched his chest, blood surged to his throat, eyes turned towards him. A nurse, the pretty one with liquid eyes, wiped his chin. The stench of shit wafted from his chair.
Archie Hardcastle’s mind was better than his body. The latter had crumbled with incessant ageing but his brain retained the wit of his youth. Not for him the vacuous, senseless semi-alive days of the others around him. For Archie, imprisonment. His cage a broken, absurd body. A black pit from which he screamed for rescue every waking minute.
Until today.
This morning, he had held a photograph. He wondered why he had not seen it before. It lay at his bedside when he woke. His wife, Eve. Oxford Playhouse, post curtain. She stood centre of the picture, her hands pushed together in front of her as if in prayer. She was smiling, free of the pain which wrecked her later life. Young, bright, a pool of sunshine. Behind her, hand on her shoulder, stood the actor he used to be. Shirt open to his trouser band, chest stiff, muscles bristling under the theatre lights. He was whole then, glad to be what God made him. He had lived for the stage. And Eve. Most of all he had lived for Eve.
From the shadows Archie watched the shards of evening light give into night. He wanted to time his death with the dying of the sunlight, a final parallel in a once creative, now pointless life. To die is to lose your physiology. Perhaps traumatic, perhaps gentle, your mind simply closing down your body with merciful hands. Archie believed he could initiate the latter. He trusted the power of his mind to kill the weak physicality encasing it, to close down his life. Not suicide…evocation of natural causes. He rehearsed every day. An old, abandoned man, dying in his chair. His final role.
So, as the last embers of light dropped from the carpet before him he slowly closed his eyes, thought finally of Eve and sought the elusive trigger.|
Written by Bottleblondesurfer (5054 comments posted) 23rd March 2009 | A really good read. It grabbed my attention from the start and kept me reading. I thought you packed a lot into such a short story.
You set his situation up powerfully and the flashback to better days only served to highlight his plight.
I did find the use of the gun broke the spell for me. It was too melodramatic and didn't seem to fit in with the tone of the story,especially after the phrase "…evocation of natural causes."
Shooting yourself can't be called that,surely?
Just a personal reaction.
It was a vivid and powerfully written piece
jane |
Written by Mr_E_Writer (466 comments posted) 23rd March 2009 | Gun! What gun?
"The stench of shit wafted from his chair," but not a hint of cordite.
I assume that "the elusive trigger" was his decision to finally let go - trigger as a metaphor, rather than actual gun metal.
Of course I could be wrong.
Regards.
Eric.
|
Written by Nick (706 comments posted) 23rd March 2009 | I was assuming "the elusive trigger" was metaphorical but as Eric stated, I could be wrong.
If it is an actual gun then I think Jane is correct it would spoil it a bit. Other than that slight confusion, it was an enjoyable read.
Nick |
Written by wendycat (2180 comments posted) 23rd March 2009 | I liked the elusion to suicide, and the interesting I idea that one can end ones own life purely at one's own will. Buddhist like. The metaphor of the pulling of the gun trigger worked well for me.
Wendy
x |
Written by lavender48 (6 comments posted) 23rd March 2009 | This is powerful stuff - the writing and the content. It hit the button emotionally for me in that it described almost exactly the situation my own mother was in when in a nursing home, incapacitated, for the last year of her life. The piece conveys so effectively the strong desire to control the moment of your own death and exploring the idea that you can do it by will alone.
I understood immediately that the ending was not literal - the word 'trigger' was spot on. Otherwise I agree with bottleblondesurfer.
The repetition of 'Eve' at the end of the 4th paragraph is very effective. I like the 'spear of light' metaphor in the 1st paragraph.
I struggled to find constructive criticism, but perhaps the phrase the pretty one with liquid eyes is a little cliched.
Thoroughly enjoyed it.
lavender
It works well as a complete piece but could it also form the end of an expanded story? |
Written by Ranes (62 comments posted) 23rd March 2009 | Guys, thanks for all your positive comments. To cover off about the trigger: it was meant to be a metaphor but it obviously misses slightly. I'll look to reshape the sentence to make it clearer.
Also, to be honest this was a tough write for me. It has echoes in my personal life.
Thanks again.
RANES |
Written by Brett (2419 comments posted) 24th March 2009 | Really enjoyed this. For such a short short it is tightly packed and powerful. I liked 'the elusive trigger'!
Good read.
Cheers | Hi
Written by fellpony (2846 comments posted) 24th March 2009 | I was lurking w/o being logged in and came across this so logged in to comment. Yes, powerful and neatly told. A lot packed into a short piece.
The "gun" I took to be illusory, imagined, and not a real trigger. Spelling has a lot to do with meaning here - Elusive - Allusive - Illusive, all have different meanings as do Illusion and Allusion (and I don't think there is such a word as Elusion). Here, where your prose needs to be as punchy as poetry, I'd avoid all three because readers may be attaching a different meaning to your word than the one you mean yourself.
I think another difficulty with the trigger metaphor is that it has no basis in the preceding story. "Slowly took his final curtain" would be more apt as it links to his career. Feel free to ignore, though! |
Written by Leigh (410 comments posted) 25th March 2009 | Very poignant piece. You really made me feel for Archie. I too was slightly confused about the gun reference, though, and was unsure whether it was real or imaginary.
I love the line "he watched the sun pierce the window, its spear of light shrinking as afternoon drew long" - it's so shrp and visual. |
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