Where IS the aftershave?

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Stink Child Comics

LIGHTSABER DAY JULY 1ST

yeah i think it goes with the theme. perhaps to get the point across more you can go into more detail about what makes her want the change? (just and idea). Also, it was hard to define where the narrator was until the end for me. i thought she was in the bathroom until the guy called out. I like the idea of you though. Good stuff. keep working on it

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~ My pen bleeds ink emotion on to paper relief~

*expressed from the Mind Of A Poet*

how the hell should i know

(rofl)

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_{Brain tingles ftw}

i dont like to be too direct about things, but the mention of a kitchen counter was to hint her initial position, and the bruises were a hint towards why she would want a change. You are right, I could go into a little more detail about that, although my main concern with this, in light of the workshop, was suggesting that her will to actually do anything about it evolved by watching the fly. thank you for the read and comments

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_{Brain tingles ftw}

Heheh, the silent escape, I love it. The fly metaphor is used very effectively here. The metaphors are also really great (:
The only thing I can see wrong with it is that in the second-to-last sentence, you changed your tense from present to past.

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"Welcome to Whose Line Is It Anyway, the show where you can never be too rich, or too gay." [link]

I like the idea of using the fly as a motivation to finally break out. I do wonder wether she escapes through the window (it could be one of those big sliding things), or opens it for the fly and takes the door herself..

Kudos for entering the workshop, cos every time I had an' idea I was like "but does it suit the thème??" and ended up disbanding it.

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'Needed time to clear my mind and breathe the free air, find some peace there. Used to keep my heart in jail but the choice was love or fear of pain and I...
chose...
love...'
Anathema - 'Everything'

Since I’m new to this concept I’m not sure that I can truly measure the relevancy of this story to the subject, at least not objectively. I can say though that, from what little I understood, the idea is to deal with the basic-animalistic side of the human soul, and explore devolvement against evolvement, in that context. As part of that there’s a need to keep everything down to earth, natural, realistic, simplistic.

In that sense I think that you hit the target. While dealing with the subject of abuse, you touched the essence of the main character as a devolved creature, lifeless, empty, hardly any emotions, thoughts, only the wait for it to end. In this story the end came from within, she ended the scenario, the act, thus presumably saved her self from the inevitable. But when reading the last line - ”It's my turn to find a different sun.” - I am not sure anymore of the actual change.

The idea of searching for a substitute for “sun”, by searching for a different “sun”, that shows a pattern. Something that cannot be broken by a simple act of leaving. She will probably find the same thing in a different costume, just because she looks for the same thing. She does not look for the moon, a total contrast, a different picture. That is a very dark ending, if you read it that way.

I think that story wise it’s a beautiful story. The metaphors are strong and the imagery is sensitive and touching. The only thing that bothered me was the contrast of inner-imagery of the main character against the out-breaks of her husband.

The thing is, that everything in this story feels like her even though it doesn’t speak about her directly. Since her character seems so flat, nothing but that wishing for escape, everything else describes her to fine details. Everything but the spoken lines of her husband, because there’s something crude, but not in a good way, in the way he speaks that breaks her “oint of view”. I think that I felt it most strongly in the line ”If you're done talking to your breakfast you can make me some. Maybe using the toaster will help you feel some of that validation you're always going on about, hah." though the “validation” remark was in place, the other description, or even tone, doesn’t feel as strong as it should – from her stand.

I think that it’s a well written story, very good work indeed!

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Some days I write those words, others they write me.

your imagery is second to none. The prison bars, coffee steam, the fly. It's so primal, so basic.

I found it really challenging to keep up that visceral level but you nailed it.

If i had to be critical, I'd be being an asshole.

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Danny 101: Less of a cautionary tale, more of a fucking fairytale.
Read this. For all our sakes

I enjoyed reading this. There was some fantastic imagery, and my favourite line has to be;
"...I've forgotten how many bruises ago I stopped hovering at windows, waiting for a different morning to show up..."

I think this captures the essence of naturalism- as far as I understood it. However I think you have created two realities here; one which has the character accepting her fate (the deterministic element) and the other when she leaves the house, which has her changing things. I think for such a short story, it's pure genius! To be able to convey two worlds, in so few lines and have such a dramatic shift of viewpoint,really made me want to read more

I love the fly analogies and the presence of the abusive male is in my mind, a reminder of the brutal obstacles of life. The fact he goes about his everyday routine and expects her to follow without question, is to me, the main determistic element. I believe you could look at this story as a comment about him, and the fact he is set in ways/won't change, which will always have the same violent outcome for any woman who becomes involved with him.

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"Sometimes I wake up grumpy; other times I let him sleep"

"Cat's motto: No matter what you've done wrong, always try to make it look like the dog did it."

*TheWritersMeow[link] A FANTASTIC club for writers

ah you are correct. I must have misread (sorry ). I do like it tho. I was picturing it the whole time!

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~ My pen bleeds ink emotion on to paper relief~

*expressed from the Mind Of A Poet*