She looks up at him in
admiration as they stroll down the street, arm in arm. He walks on with
his chin held high, proud of the girl hanging on him. Their feet pad
against the cobblestone, walking into the waiting arms of their own ‘happily
ever after.’ Or….
Is there a hint of
dreadful sadness in her eyes? His chin is erect, but perhaps that tells
of a pride not related to the girl he is with, but rather a pride that is
working against her. Does she try to please him, wish she could please
him, do everything she can to get satisfaction from him? And does he just
remain as he is, unmoved with his head held high? The scene could be
heaven, but I’m beginning to doubt it.
The hands of a mother
interlock with her child’s, and the little boy skips along the street
merrily. So few mothers care to spend time with their children anymore,
choosing instead to chase their own dreams instead of nurturing the lives they
chose to bring into this world. But a closer look and I can see the
sallow skin of the mother, and I notice her shaking hands. She is thin,
with dark bags under her eyes. She lights up on the corner, stilling her
child’s skipping, making him wait until she’s had a smoke. But the wild
look that’s edging out her eyes makes me think that a cigarette isn’t quite as
strong as she’d like.
The leaves lying on the ground are no longer brightly colored, the
cold has drained them and they lie and brown and brittle. The street sweep has come and gone, and these
leaves will stay where they are until snow comes to bury them.
The last graf here is quite powerful, so much so, in fact, that IMO you can understate the earlier material so that the point is even sharper, so that the distance between the seen and the dead leaves is even greater.
ReplyDeleteAs so often lately, we're in the realm of taste here, not rules and regulations, and that is exactly where I want to be with a student writer. So, when I say "understate," I mean:
She looks up at him as they stroll down the street, arm in arm. He walks on with his chin held high, proud of the girl . Their feet pad against the cobblestone, walking into the waiting arms of their own ‘happily ever after.’ Or...
Is there a hint of sadness in her eyes? His chin is erect, but perhaps that tells of a pride not related to the girl he is with, but rather a pride that is working against her. Does she try to please him, wish she could please him, do everything she can to get satisfaction from him? And does he just remain as he is, unmoved with his head held high? The scene could be heaven, but I’m beginning to doubt it.
The hands of a mother interlock with her child’s, and the little boy skips along the street. So few mothers spend time with their children anymore, chasing their own dreams instead of nurturing the lives they chose to bring into this world. But a closer look shows me the sallow skin of the mother and her shaking hands. She is thin, with dark bags under her eyes. She lights up on the corner, stilling her child’s skipping, making him wait until she’s had a smoke. But the wild look that’s edging out her eyes makes me think that a cigarette isn’t quite as strong as she’d like.
I like this way better. I often have trouble trusting my reader to see what I'm trying to write.
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