Supergrunch Posted November 26, 2007 Share Posted November 26, 2007 So yeah, I had the urge to write a short piece, and thought I'd try free writing, where you just start going and see what happens. Here's the end product: He got up out of his chair, and swiftly opened the door, nervously glancing at the ceiling as he did so. Its appearance was unchanged from the day before; it still left something to be desired. Sighing, he shut the door and pulled on the handle to ensure it was locked. The road before him seemed slightly dreary, but he nevertheless strode forth with gusto. It was at this point that he noticed the fence. Of course, he'd looked at it every morning, but today he entertained the idea that it didn't quite fit, as if it had been placed there by an unknown force. It seemed usual in both structure and appearance – it was composed of wooden slats, each a few inches across, with the odd splinter poking out, marring the otherwise entirely regular array. Coupled with the fibrous structure, the near orange colouration made him think of saffron: a multitude of threads compacted together. Realising he was wasting time, he made to leave, but noticed another pair of eyes. “It's been needing a new coat of varnish for a while now. Is that bit particularly bad?” “Um... sorry, I er... no, not really...” The eyes glared at him accusingly. Their owner spoke again, this time almost threateningly. “It might even need painting.” “Ah, really? That must... be a bit of a bother.” The words came out of him practically spontaneously. He felt obliged to elaborate on this, but suppressed the urge. “I'm sorry, I have to rush.” He fixed his gaze on the road, and hurried away faster than was necessary. When he returned, the rich colour of the fence had been concealed beneath a dark green substance. He reached out to touch it, ignoring the sign on the ground which declared “WET PAINT” in wonky felt-tip. He looked down at his hand in horror, the green residue darkest between his first and second fingers. He stroked his thumb across the affected area of skin, taking in the sensation. He backed away from the fence, and headed towards his door, now running. When he made it inside he had to hold back the tears. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jayseven Posted November 26, 2007 Share Posted November 26, 2007 interesting. There's a lot of sensual experience going on and a lot of it surprises the character, as if he's not seen these things before. How the "owner of the eyes" talks to him depicting the main character's fixation on those eyes. Lots of noticing and little inner thought going on. The main character strikes me as a daydreamer... I mean, he looks at the ceiling and he's dissapointed that it's the same as it was before? He strides through his dreary world with gusto, content in his own little world to some degree. Interaction with others scares him because he doesn't want to be a hassle? Doesn't want to affect what they do, and because he stopped to look at the fence he ends up with paint on his hands... I like it. Lots of room for interpretation I don't believe you should alter it, considering the whole point was the freewriting aspect. Do you write much? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Supergrunch Posted November 26, 2007 Author Share Posted November 26, 2007 When my sister read she mentioned that the main character seemed very autistic, which your comments seem to back up - he can't really cope with simple conversation, and thinks about (and is disturbed by) things others take for granted. But yeah, I wasn't necessarily going for this angle, that's just how it turned out - as you say, it can be interpreted several ways. Anyway, thanks for the comments. I used to write a fair bit, but I haven't done anything for a few years now - I just felt like writing something last night. It was fun, I may write more some time. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jayseven Posted November 26, 2007 Share Posted November 26, 2007 Do dude I used to write loads and I stopped ironically when I began learning about how to write. Then i started writing recently, and I quite like how my last one turned out, even if it could be called "editing" rather than writing. You know every november there's a(n inter)national writing competition where you have to write a thousand words (i think) every day for the month of november. I remembered about it this year on the 2nd of november >_< Yeah I can see the autistic possibilities, except the narrator describes things in ways which would be abstract to the seriously autistic; "slightly dreary" and "left something to be desired" are too vague for autism, but the conversing and paint on his hand and his general weirdness fits it well! I demand you do more, i'm afraid. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Roostophe Posted November 26, 2007 Share Posted November 26, 2007 That's some great work there, Grunch. I'd like to see more. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shotgun2k Posted November 30, 2007 Share Posted November 30, 2007 Good ol' stream of conciousness style. Are you familiar with Mrs. Dalloway? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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