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Literature Text
Sharing a Bed
8-06-12
It was warm to the touch – as if the previous occupant's body was still there. In fact, the entire room screamed, "I'm not truly yours!" This was hardly a surprise; I was the new wife. My eyes sparked with achievement as I scanned the soon-to-be redecorated room; I had finally made it. After a year of hard work, I was finally reaping the fruits of my labour, and what a difficult labour it had been. Hours upon hours spent with Justin, calming him, soothing him, placating him. Being there when he thought he had no one else. Whispering comfort into his elfish ears. And now, he was mine. I sat down on the edge of the bed and gently fingered the quilt.
I never knew that a man could be so beautiful. His face could have been chiselled from the finest marble, yet there is a softness about him that overshadows any thought of him being a harsh man. He isthe perfect height too – some people will say that height isn't important, but being so tall myself I hated the idea of looking down on a man; Justin is a head taller than me. His eyes are so green I swear that I can see grass rippling in them every time he smiles. Those eyes first caught my attention; that and his smile. They spoke of intelligence, humour, kindness. He is beautiful inside and out.
What a handsome man I have married. He is so tall and fine-boned, with ears that taper to a small point. Though he usually wears immaculate jeans, converse sneakers and a t-shirt, he looks as if he wouldn't feel out of place in formal attire. In fact, he looks devilishly handsome in a tuxedo. I am so proud to be able to have him at my side; his handsomeness highlights my beauty perfectly. My blue eyes to his green, though sometimes mine have been known to show ambition rather than kindness, even if I do say so myself, and my long, curly russet hair to his mop of black; he never combs his hair with anything but his fingers, yet he always looks well presented. He will make the perfect, dare I say it, trophy in my collection. I have the wealth, I have the fame, I have the fans...now I have the dashing man.
He never loses his temper with me, even when I am at my uttermost low. He never tells me I am wrong, yet he never tells me I am right either; he remains neutral, and, by his neutrality, portrays confidence in me. It's this confidence that makes me want to stop all the bad things I am doing or have ever done – I have never had anyone believe in me the way he does. Me; poor, little, underdog me. The chubby girl with the mouse-like shyness and the flat blonde hair; me with the mud-like eyes and button nose. Me. He has confidence in me.
Walking around the room my eyes fix on objects that will have to go in 'the purge'. The mirror is too small, the dresser too. The photographs I suppose I will have to live with, they are his after all. Some fresh paint; white to cover the yellow. The knickknacks and ornaments will make way for my many tubes of lipstick and other items essential for living. I have my man! Me, miss 'popular' with the fiery hair and oceanic eyes; slim, sexy and to die for. I just know that I will be happy, and surely he will be happy too...especially as I am exceptionally better looking than his last wife.
He asked me to marry him – he is my best friend and I love him so much. I never thought that anyone could love me, and yet there he is on his knees with a beautiful boxed sapphire. What a romantic evening this has been. We had dinner at our favourite Italian restaurant, followed by a moonlit walk on the beach. Then we went back to his place. While I was in the bathroom freshening up, he placed so many candles leading down the hall, down the stairs and into the sitting room. Each candle was seated on a small bed of rose petals. Then, he got down on one knee. My heart leapt to my mouth even as I knew the answer– a resounding yes! I have never felt this special or this wanted. My father would be so proud, if only he was alive. I am sure that my mother will be thrilled – she has fantasised about my wedding for almost as long as I have. I'm sure she knows exactly what to do – who to phone, etc. We even set a date, May 20th. I love him so much.
I really can't believe that he was married to her. I mean, one just had to look at her to know that she was nothing special. Unlike me, she didn't even have her father to walk her down the aisle. I still remember the day he proposed. It was raining and we were forced to take cover in a local coffee shop. He looked exceptionally grumpy that day; he never does like the rain. He sat there twiddling his fingers for the longest time. And then, all in a staccato burst of words, he said it. The ring came later, a simple gold band. I was so satisfied. I still am.
Moving into our new house has been fun. I helped with choosing everything, even down to the colour of the walls. Yellow for the bedroom as it makes the room cheery. Blue for the bathrooms, with decorative tiles to match. I never knew how much I love decorating. But for me the highlight was buying our bed – a beautiful double masterpiece. It sits in the centre of our room now, and sitting on it is a dream come true. Tonight we will spend the night in the same bed for the first time and I can hardly wait.
This bed will have to go too – far too many memories for him. A new start deserves a new bed, I think. And besides, a double bed is too small. Nothing smaller than a king-sized bed will do for me. I shudder at the thought of them together in this bed – and here there I was sitting on it earlier. At least she didn't die in it, that would just be too much. Fate smiled on me the day that driver chose to drive drunk.
8-06-12
It was warm to the touch – as if the previous occupant's body was still there. In fact, the entire room screamed, "I'm not truly yours!" This was hardly a surprise; I was the new wife. My eyes sparked with achievement as I scanned the soon-to-be redecorated room; I had finally made it. After a year of hard work, I was finally reaping the fruits of my labour, and what a difficult labour it had been. Hours upon hours spent with Justin, calming him, soothing him, placating him. Being there when he thought he had no one else. Whispering comfort into his elfish ears. And now, he was mine. I sat down on the edge of the bed and gently fingered the quilt.
I never knew that a man could be so beautiful. His face could have been chiselled from the finest marble, yet there is a softness about him that overshadows any thought of him being a harsh man. He isthe perfect height too – some people will say that height isn't important, but being so tall myself I hated the idea of looking down on a man; Justin is a head taller than me. His eyes are so green I swear that I can see grass rippling in them every time he smiles. Those eyes first caught my attention; that and his smile. They spoke of intelligence, humour, kindness. He is beautiful inside and out.
What a handsome man I have married. He is so tall and fine-boned, with ears that taper to a small point. Though he usually wears immaculate jeans, converse sneakers and a t-shirt, he looks as if he wouldn't feel out of place in formal attire. In fact, he looks devilishly handsome in a tuxedo. I am so proud to be able to have him at my side; his handsomeness highlights my beauty perfectly. My blue eyes to his green, though sometimes mine have been known to show ambition rather than kindness, even if I do say so myself, and my long, curly russet hair to his mop of black; he never combs his hair with anything but his fingers, yet he always looks well presented. He will make the perfect, dare I say it, trophy in my collection. I have the wealth, I have the fame, I have the fans...now I have the dashing man.
He never loses his temper with me, even when I am at my uttermost low. He never tells me I am wrong, yet he never tells me I am right either; he remains neutral, and, by his neutrality, portrays confidence in me. It's this confidence that makes me want to stop all the bad things I am doing or have ever done – I have never had anyone believe in me the way he does. Me; poor, little, underdog me. The chubby girl with the mouse-like shyness and the flat blonde hair; me with the mud-like eyes and button nose. Me. He has confidence in me.
Walking around the room my eyes fix on objects that will have to go in 'the purge'. The mirror is too small, the dresser too. The photographs I suppose I will have to live with, they are his after all. Some fresh paint; white to cover the yellow. The knickknacks and ornaments will make way for my many tubes of lipstick and other items essential for living. I have my man! Me, miss 'popular' with the fiery hair and oceanic eyes; slim, sexy and to die for. I just know that I will be happy, and surely he will be happy too...especially as I am exceptionally better looking than his last wife.
He asked me to marry him – he is my best friend and I love him so much. I never thought that anyone could love me, and yet there he is on his knees with a beautiful boxed sapphire. What a romantic evening this has been. We had dinner at our favourite Italian restaurant, followed by a moonlit walk on the beach. Then we went back to his place. While I was in the bathroom freshening up, he placed so many candles leading down the hall, down the stairs and into the sitting room. Each candle was seated on a small bed of rose petals. Then, he got down on one knee. My heart leapt to my mouth even as I knew the answer– a resounding yes! I have never felt this special or this wanted. My father would be so proud, if only he was alive. I am sure that my mother will be thrilled – she has fantasised about my wedding for almost as long as I have. I'm sure she knows exactly what to do – who to phone, etc. We even set a date, May 20th. I love him so much.
I really can't believe that he was married to her. I mean, one just had to look at her to know that she was nothing special. Unlike me, she didn't even have her father to walk her down the aisle. I still remember the day he proposed. It was raining and we were forced to take cover in a local coffee shop. He looked exceptionally grumpy that day; he never does like the rain. He sat there twiddling his fingers for the longest time. And then, all in a staccato burst of words, he said it. The ring came later, a simple gold band. I was so satisfied. I still am.
Moving into our new house has been fun. I helped with choosing everything, even down to the colour of the walls. Yellow for the bedroom as it makes the room cheery. Blue for the bathrooms, with decorative tiles to match. I never knew how much I love decorating. But for me the highlight was buying our bed – a beautiful double masterpiece. It sits in the centre of our room now, and sitting on it is a dream come true. Tonight we will spend the night in the same bed for the first time and I can hardly wait.
This bed will have to go too – far too many memories for him. A new start deserves a new bed, I think. And besides, a double bed is too small. Nothing smaller than a king-sized bed will do for me. I shudder at the thought of them together in this bed – and here there I was sitting on it earlier. At least she didn't die in it, that would just be too much. Fate smiled on me the day that driver chose to drive drunk.
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First draft of an entry to #Daily-Lit-Deviations' Summer Contest.
Second version here: [link]
The aim: "Use an object to connect the lives of two or more otherwise unrelated characters."
Blog for contest information: [link]
Word count: 1093 words
Questions for critics:
**Which version makes for better understanding and easier reading?**
1. Can you visualize the characters or do I need more description?
2. Is the antithesis between the characters overdone? How can this be improved?
3. Is the object that links the characters defined enough to be understood without obviously pointing it out?
4. Did you like it? Why?
5. Where can I improve?
6. What didn't you like? Why?
Second version here: [link]
The aim: "Use an object to connect the lives of two or more otherwise unrelated characters."
Blog for contest information: [link]
Word count: 1093 words
Questions for critics:
**Which version makes for better understanding and easier reading?**
1. Can you visualize the characters or do I need more description?
2. Is the antithesis between the characters overdone? How can this be improved?
3. Is the object that links the characters defined enough to be understood without obviously pointing it out?
4. Did you like it? Why?
5. Where can I improve?
6. What didn't you like? Why?
© 2012 - 2024 MagicalJoey
Comments8
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Overall Vision Originality Technique ImpactThis is a work that, while not the sort of thing that is usually my cup of tea, dragged me in nonetheless. I'm not a fan of romance; but this had enough originality to keep me interested, which is where its strength lies. The format, and the techniques used, rather than the overall theme (innocent/scheming wives) make the piece.
This version is far more effective than the linear version. In this, the comparisons are clearer, and the details included make more sense. Separated, it's like two stories with strange levels of narration. With this, while in the start slightly disorienting, it's far more engaging, and you find yourself wanting to see how it ends.
1. Can you visualize the characters or do I need more description?
The characters are clear, both in their physical appearance (which is far secondary) to their mental outlook (which is the most important thing in a flash fiction like this). Even the man in the middle is fairly clearly outlined, despite him never speaking a word.
Having a character make statements about the environment and indirect statements about themselves is a strong way to develop a character and help the reader understand them. In this case, even the slightly different way of talking from each helps to class them apart. Definitely well done here.
2. Is the antithesis between the characters overdone? How can this be improved?
I wouldn't call it overdone, per say. It's very, very obvious, even right at the start, that these are two completely different characters. Everything that's said by each of them has weight and serves to further set them apart; there are no wasted words. But on the other hand, I feel there could be a few more things that set them apart without directly contradicting each other.
Rather than have fairly everything represented in a different light in each ladies life, perhaps have some parts in one or t'other that aren't even mirrored? Statements, events, hobbies or comments that are so alien to the other party that they're never even considered, let alone mirrored with an opposite behavior.
Even more eerie would quite possibly be to have the piece constructed so that they start being relatively similar and slowly diverge over shorter paragraphs, and as they extend in length, the differences become more obvious. I think the outright contradiction/juxtaposition between the two women dulls the effectiveness of the technique.
3. Is the object that links the characters defined enough to be understood without obviously pointing it out?
I do think so. It depends what you consider pointing out, after all. I think a lot more connects the two than just a bed, and focusing on it solely would be a mistake. I like the way it's used as a closer, finishing the old relationship as it's thrown out (or planned to be thrown out), but there's a lot more to this than just the final touch.
4. Did you like it? Why?
I did. Stylistically, it is consistent, and the extreme juxtaposition it uses to define the two protagonists is something I haven't really seen before. The narration for each is different enough to be noticeable, also in a consistent way. Viewing it from a technical standpoint, it was very well done indeed.
5. Where can I improve?
The grammar, spelling and punctuation use is down solid, as are the comparisons and juxtapositions between the characters. I would advise creating more common ground between the characters. Not just the same sort of events done differently, but different events that have no overlap. Rather than mirror image, symmetrical difference, try for something that really sets them apart. Rather than black/white, try orange/green. If that makes any sense at all.
6. What didn't you like? Why?
The fact that it's a romance-based flash fiction, but that's my problem, not yours. As I've said, I sort of take issue with how purely opposite the characters are - it seems a bit unrealistic.
Summary
With techniques, and style, and rules of grammar/spelling/punctuation, you're on very solid ground here. You've tried something new, and other than making the characters a little more dynamic and easing into their juxtaposition a little slower, all I would suggest is the fine-toothed comb approach; go over it again and nitpick at the arrangement of tiny words. Because there's not a whole load else to change.