Thank you. I’m not a big user of similies in my work, mostly because I’m not very good at them and I feel that there is nothing worse than a bad similie in a piece I am reading so tend to stear clear of them. Thank you for you comment though, I shall certainly give it some thought before I send the piece off to the competition.
Short Story / Robert and Delilah
“It’s all rather ridiculous, really,” she said to the dog as she stood in front of the mirror, “getting dressed up just to break up with someone.” The sight of herself in her least tatty floral sundress made her snort with derision. “Silly old fool.” She said to her reflection shaking her head. “At your age you should know better that to get yourself in to these situations in the first place.” And yet here I am, she thought with a sigh.
She‘d never meant for it to happen. She met him at the local theatre, they were both alone and he approached her at the interval and offered her drink. She accepted and then they had bumped into each other again in the foyer at the end of the show and he’d invited her to the wine-bar across the road. After sitting through two and a half hours of over-acting and off-key singing she’d felt in need of a drink and some conversation.
“Damn lousy actors.” She muttered as she made her way down the stairs, the dog trailing her to the kitchen, “it was all their fault.”
The drink had been pleasant enough, content as she was at the time to let him talk, letting the sound of his posh, plumy voice wash over her and rub away the remnants of the play, but before she knew what she was doing she was agreeing to attend the village fete with him the next weekend and suddenly, one innocent drink had turned into three disastrous hours at the village fete, two dinner dates and three evenings out at the local pub; all of which she’d agreed to out of a mixture of apology, pity or just plain not knowing how to say no. “And here I am doing it again.”
Well, enough was enough, it had to stop. She had to be firm. People were starting to think they were a couple for goodness sake; she had just this morning received a wedding invitation for Delilah and Robert and yesterday Mrs Baker at the corner shop had referred to him as her boyfriend!
“Honestly.” She grumbled to the dog as she packed sandwiches and cake into the wicker picnic basket. “Boyfriend indeed.”
The dog gave a long look as if to say she only had herself to blame.
“Yes, all right. Don’t you start.” She knew damn well whose fault it was, thank you very much, and now she had to get herself out of it. But how? What did one say? She’d never been any good at this sort of thing.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
“I’m just not ready for a relationship right now.”
“I need some space.”
It all sounded so cliché and all she really wanted to say, if she were honest about it, was “I don’t like you. Please go away and leave me alone.”
“Sorry Benny boy, no walkies for you.” She told the dog as she closed the door firmly behind her, leaving a dejected looking Ben staring glumly through the glass.
“Damn that man.” She turned away from the door and Ben’s sad expression feeling like the sort of person that drowns puppies. “I can’t even take Ben with me because of some irrational fear he has about dogs. So he got bitten once when he was kid, didn’t everyone? Stupid boy was probably teasing it anyway. Shouldn’t he have grown out of it by now?” She grumbled to herself as she set off up the path that led to the canal, and to cheer herself up started to compose a little ode to Robert as she walked.
“Ah Robert,
How you bug me.
Let me count the ways.
Your fear of dogs,
Comes in at one.
This list could go on for days.
Numbers two through four,
To be sure,
Have got to be your little ways.
The way you cough,
The way you chew,
The way you count your change.
That money purse you count it into,
Drives me quite insane,
And as for…”
Is there anything in the world more annoying than a woman who is always late? Robert certainly didn’t think so. He checked his watch for the fourth time in as many minutes and gave a deep sigh. He was a firm believer in punctuality and order and couldn’t abide mess and tardiness; which was precisely why he couldn’t believe his own bad luck in ending up with Jean, or ‘Delilah’, as she had insisted on calling herself since they’d first met.
The woman was a walking disaster area. Her hair wild and unkempt, her clothing always slightly soiled and wrinkled, her use of make-up startling and slap dash, and she was always late. Still, it wasn’t her fault, he reminded himself, the woman wasn’t well and when he had signed up for this job he had known it wouldn’t be easy.
Jeff, the manager of Reach Out, had explained all about Jean. A lost soul was the way he described her. A poor woman desperately in need of a friend, someone to look out for her, someone for her to turn to in her moments of lucidity and bring her out of herself, get her out of the house every now and again. Jeff was convinced that with just a little human interaction each week Jean would spend less and less time in her fantasy world and more in reality.
“Fantasy world?” Robert had asked, unsure if this Jean person was really the one for him, but Jeff had assured him that for all her wild imaginings she was really quite harmless. Although reference to the imaginary dog that she apparently took everywhere with her no matter who she was that day, and his parting remark of, “some of her personalities are really rather fun,” had done little to put his mind at rest.
He’d been told that Jean very rarely left her house but Robert was convinced, despite Jeff’s firmly voiced concerns about it not being protocol, that the best way to approach her and gain her confidence was to make her acquaintance in a more normal setting -like the supermarket or some such place- than just ring the door bell and thrust himself into her life.
As luck would have it, he’d only had to wait outside number six Maple Drive for an hour and a half before she emerged and led him to the local theatre. From there it had been simple enough to suggest a drink and she, obviously taken with him, had mentioned the village fete the next weekend and made it pretty obvious that she was waiting for an invite.
He’d done a great job over the last seven weeks he thought, allowing himself a self-satisfied smile, Jeff would do well to learn a thing or two from him instead of lecturing him for not doing things by the book. He’d managed to keep a lid on the imaginary dog, which thankfully hadn’t accompanied her to the theatre the first time they met, by claiming a fear of them, and his mere presence in her life seemed to have cut her multitude of personalities down to just one. In fact, so immediate was his influence on her life that this Delilah persona was the only one he’d had to deal with. Progress indeed.
He was just thinking that he had obviously missed his calling in life, wasting all those years in civil service when clearly he was gifted with the mentally unwell, when the lady herself came into view looking every bit the picture of mental imbalance: steal grey corkscrew curls sticking out every which way; mismatched rubber boots, one green one black, on her feet; tatty looking picnic basket bumping uncomfortably against her leg Delilah rounded the corner singing to herself and giggling like a school girl.
With a sigh, he drew himself up ready for action. Today was going to be a tough one, he was going to confront her about her illness, get her to drop this ridiculous Delilah charade and admit she was really Jean Bradshaw and that she wasn’t well. If the dog and other personalities could be dealt without really trying, Robert felt sure that he could handle the rest.
He looked around at the dirty patch of grass she had chosen for their picnic and suppressed a shudder, he just hoped she’d remembered to bring the blanket.
She had, of course, forgotten the blanket. And knives and forks as well as the plates for that matter. In fact, it was only when she was already half way there that she’d realised she had managed to put on one black and one green rubber boot – little wonder with all the distraction of leaving poor old Ben behind on such a sunny day – but she’d remembered the wine, that was the main thing.
Shame about the plates and blanket, she thought, but you couldn’t have everything in life and this was a picnic by the canal after all, what did he expect? Folding chairs and Pimms? Yes, she realised as she watched him try to sit with as little of himself touching the ground as possible, he probably did. Oh well. She went back to unpacking the rest of the picnic. At least when this date was a complete disaster he couldn’t object too much about it being their last. He must see that they simply aren’t compatible.
She waited until they had finished the sandwiches and were starting on the cake.
“Robert, look.” She started hesitantly. “About you and me. About this.” She said, gesturing vaguely around them.
“Before you say anything, Delilah,” he cut in with his public school accent, once again talking right over the top of her as if she were a child.
“Now hang on a minute.” She began, but he cut her off again.
“Look,” he said solemnly. “Jean.”
“Delilah.
He gave her a long look and repeated. “Jean. I think we both know.”
“Delilah!” She snapped, her temper flaring. The cheek of the man! First he spends weeks driving her mad with his demands to see her, bugging her into submission until all her friends think they are a couple and then he can’t even have the good grace to remember her name! “My name is Delilah. I don’t know who this Jean woman is but I will thank you to try and keep the two of us separate in your mind you…you, oh!”
The look on his face was the epitome of world weariness and she gasped and put her hand to her mouth. What if Jean was his dead wife? What if the poor man was suffering from some sort of early dementia? He looked so forlorn. She looked around them quickly. What was one supposed to do with people when they went a bit funny?
Home, she decided. I should get him home.
Robert couldn’t believe how easy it had been. He’d had a long speech prepared but all he’d needed to do was call her by her real name a couple of times and wham, she’d remembered who she was. Just a bit of plain talking instead all of this pussy footing around was all it had taken. The more he thought about it as they practically trotted back down the canal -Jean suddenly in a terrible rush to get home- the more it made sense. It was what was wrong with the world today, too much political correctness and not enough straight talking. Nobody said what they meant anymore.
There was just one small problem he realised as they came to a stop outside her house. Despite his obvious natural genius in the care and treatment of the mentally unwell, he wasn’t really sure what to do with her next. She seemed to have woken up from her fantasy world under the impression that he was her husband -the entire journey back to her house she had been whittering on about getting him home and tucked up in bed with an Ovaltine- and he hadn’t the faintest idea how to stop her from trying to get him inside, undressed and tucked up in bed in a pair of her late husband’s pyjamas.
She had got him his as far as his car with little problem and had planned on taking him inside and calling a doctor but he’d become strangely mute and routed to the spot, staring resolutely off into the distance. She didn’t want to just leave him out here alone, he might wander off, but she didn’t know what else to do. She had just decided to chance it and nip inside to make the call when he sprang back to life, waving manically at her next door neighbour watching them from her front room window.
“Well, dear,” he said briskly. “Best be going.”
“Going? Going where?”
“Back to work, dear.” He said leaning forward and pecking her on the cheek and then stepped out into the road, rounded the his car and was sat in the drivers seat before she had chance to react. “Don‘t want to keep them waiting!” He called merrily as he slammed the car door and drove off with a little wave.
“Robert” She shouted, starting after the car. “You can’t go off driving in your condition, you’re…” But she was too late. The car was already rounding the corner with a squeal. “…not well.”
She threw her hands in the air and walked down the path to her front door. “Well, to hell with it. You can’t say I didn’t try.” As she put her key in the lock she noticed a thick spider’s web that had obviously been there for some time covering the top corner of the door and partially blocking out the number eight, making it look like a 6. She wiped at it with her sleeve and went inside.
Thank The Lord for neighbours, Robert thought as he sped away, tires squealing as he took the corner too fast in his hurry to escape. The old woman next door was bound to come out and help Jean into her house; much safer than risking letting her get him inside. He would have to call Jeff when he got home and make his apologies, but he couldn’t keep working with Jean anymore, not now.
The net curtains of number six fell back into place and Princess Tatiana of Narnia retreated into her darkened room, a white Pekinese cradled in her arms. “You see, darling,” she crooned to the dog. “That’s why we don’t go out there, it‘s full of crazy people.”
She turned away from the window and walked through into the kitchen passing the long mirror in the hall that reflected an old, white haired woman wearing a sequined ball gown, tiara and tartan slippers, but no dog.
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wise2owls reviewed Version 2 -
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At first this reader thought that this short story was just agout a young lady called Delilah wanting to break up with a man called Robert. Ah not so, it is prose about a delusional old lady being with her social worker; someone who works with mentally challenged people who have more than one personality. Excellent in how you weave in the ways that these two people see each other and work around each other. Wonderful how you have me feeling that he`s a bit off when its really her that`s round the bend. Wow, thank you for sharing this with me.
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campb26593 reviewed Version 2 -
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Nice. The changes in point of view (POV) came through well and the payoff at the end was gratifying. This is your work of art, but my one humble comment is to work on the narrative descriptions by adding a little more sensory input with similes. What did things taste like? What did they smell like? What did they feel like?
Example: “…into a wicker picnic basket that smelled like her mother’s musty cellar and scratched the tops of her fingers with its frayed, curling strands as though inflicting a punishment for involving it in the residual commitments of her regretful choices.”
I hope that helps. Good work. This is a very serviceable piece of writing.
Howard_Bushart reviewed Version 2 -
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Loved “some of her personalities…” and the final image of the story is killer. Of course, there will be those who will object to any light-hearted treatment of the mentally ill.
Your technique of character development--switching back and forth to illustrate different perspectives of the same experience--is very well-done and effectuve, Both characters are interesting and engaging. The only real problem I had was plot and that Robert functioned as some kind of surrogate in a therapeutic relationship of some sort. That’s a little difficult on the first read through. Good luck on the comptetition.
aarondodd reviewed Version 2 -
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I rather enjoyed this piece. I found the two views of this woman to be quite entertaining.
That said, plot wise I would suggest a couple of things:
1)
I would explain the “Reach Out” a little more. From this piece it sounds like just a group of do-gooders imposing themselves in someone’s life. To treat someone with dementia of any sort requires quite a bit of training to do at all well. To treat someone with dissociative identity disorder would be a bit more complicated than somoeone just decided they needed to be confronted. There’s a whole process around integrating the personalities. http://www.isst-d.org/education/treatmentguidelines-index.htm links to a PDF of treatment recommendations.
About the group themselves: Are they a treatment organization? Was she once committed and now they’re part of out-patient care to keep an eye on her? What is their motive here? Why did they focus on her?
I mention this because the idea of using multiple personalities here is very interesting, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been approached as a true condition and by someone who knows how to treat it. Since he seems to have identified her condition and wants to treat her, I felt that not going into this made the condition feel like a plot device more than an integral part of the story. I walked away with the impression of a man deciding he’d “fix” her then get scared away.
Personally, I think he should either be an accredited doctor that she’s fixated onto and decided is her unwanted boyfriend, or he should be a completely clueless-to-her-situation suitor that she scares away.
2)
I felt the sudden jump to his point of view to be jarring, mostly because he immediately explained she was crazy. I think a more subtle approach would be less jarring. Maybe if she’d brought the dog and interacted with it, then using that to segue into his POV?
I was also a bit confused as he starts off (“Women!...) making complaints about her as if he were in a relationship with her. This continued nicely from her description, but then he goes into detailing how he doesn’t like her but is a pity-friend / social worker / ???
3)
The Ode in the middle I found cute, but given your limitation on words, I’d probably suggest cutting it and expanding other sections. Other than showing her as caring for him despite herself (otherwise why would she care enough to list why she hated him so), I wasn’t sure what the point was.
4)
I loved the assumption that he had a dead wife! This was a great way to tie in her living in a fantasy world and imposing that on reality. I felt this could have been expanded more to push a “breakup” better. Its a good way to turn the tables, so to speak, where she goes from being the one being treated by him, to trying to treat him.
5)
I’m not sure I understood the relationship between the neighboor and her, #8 and #6. I got the impression she went to the wrong house and decided it was hers (that she decided she must always have lived at 8). He mentions the neighboor at 8 will help her back, but then it seems like she’s inside 6 all of a sudden. Was she ever outside? Was he really seeing the woman from 8 and not 6?
6)
The ending seemed to fizzle for me. Specifically, I found the ”...its full of crazy people” to be a tad cliche given we know she’s crazy. It felt like the TV-show cliche of having the main character look at the camera and wink, or make mention of what-if-this-was-TV…
I also felt the last line to be incomplete. Again, we know she’s crazy and all this does is show she’s able to see herself without her fantasies. But, why? If she’s truly living in a fantasy world and can see her make-believe dog, why wouldn’t she see it in the mirror?
Curtastrophe reviewed Version 1 -
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I like the opening paragraph. It’s good because it presents a problem and quickly establishes the character. Perhaps the last sentence though could be in italics.
The paragraph beginning with “The drink had…” is really a long sentence. Stylistically, I think it works. But it also wouldn’t be hard to break it into smaller, more digestible sentences.
A suggestion—“Enough is enough,” she told herself. “This has to stop. I have to be firm.”
“Honestly.” / “Honestly,”—Same thing in other places throughout.
Because the dog is sort of considered a “character” here, maybe give it some more description? Poodle/golden retriever/etc.
I really like the “ode” that D composes in her head. It gives her more depth. Maybe she’s a frustrated poet? Or an artist? After this, I’d use a scene break. # works well. I think it’s important because the point of view switches to Robert.
Something I see here is nuance that I tend to do a lot myself—Using the word “and” with great frequency. For a while I didn’t notice it, but someone pointed it out to me and suggested using Control+F to highlight each use. So I did and was surprised at all the places it had practically sprouted up. What works for me is to go back and find out if I can make an “and” sentence into two sentences or possibly even use a semi-colon.
Aha! So D is really Jean… I think this was played out superbly by mentioning the Reach Out. You trusted the reader to make the mental leap as to what’s going on and if they’re paying attention, I think most will. Kudos.
“…the imaginary dog that…” !!! That was a nice twist. It builds the suspense.
Ah, I see… This story is gradually opening up like a puzzle box. What we thought we knew about Robert’s character is flipped around as we see through a shifting perspective some insights into D/Jean that were quite unexpected. This is a neat idea, and I think very effective in the short story. It certainly makes it more intriguing.
“…uncomfortably against her leg Delilah rounded…” Should she be Jean here instead?
I’d suggest a scene break right before, “She had, of course..” and “Robert couldn’t believe…” Basically, each time the POV changes IMHO.
pussy footing / pussyfooting
A suggestion—“He said as he leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek. Before she had the chance to react, he stepped out into the road, rounded his car, and sat in the driver’s seat.”
In the beginning of the piece, I thought that the narrative voice became indistinguishable from that of D. For example, “…think they were a couple for goodness sake…” and “…as her boyfriend!” Now that I’ve finished reading and looking at it as a whole, I like the more emotional narrative tone in D’s “parts”. It definitely grew on me as the story progressed and I see now why you chose to use it—it shows the increasing emotional duress of the woman as the story winds to the climax. Nice twist!
Originally I didn’t really care for the beginning part where D was looking into the mirror. I tend to read a fair amount of stories where a character is looking into mirrors, or a pond, or glass, shiny surface of some kind, etc. But it was used to great effect at the end! Another twist. Kudos.
The ending was quite good. It was satisfying and I think the loose threads were woven together nicely. This reminds me of a show I’ve been binging on (thanks to its release on DVD) as of late—Alfred Hitchcock Presents. The story constantly twists the expectations of the reader which makes it intriguing and fun. Good work and thanks for sharing.
-Curt
musicislife reviewed Version 1 -
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Ok, here are some mistakes that you made:
first paragrpah: “least tatty….” sounds awkward try to reword
after quotes, you can’t place a period while continuing a sentence… “Silly old fool…”
“you should know better that” should be than
second para: sounds better if you say “She accepted (period) Then, they…”
in this paragraph you use and a lot. try other transitions
fourth para: HUGE run on sentence… though the detail and wording is fantastic
fifth para: “she had just this morning..” should be , “Just this morning, she had…
Mistakes like this are throughout the entire story… you like to use “and”, a lot, especially in the beginning. Also, when using dialouge you need to put a comma, end quote and then lower case for the continuation of the sentence. That’s propper grammer 101.
You’re writing definetly gets better as you go on, though, and it becomes a quicker raed.
It’s also a little confusing. You keep chaning persepectives from Jean to Robert very quickly. The whole story is hard to keep up with, though a very good idea.
The Narnia thing at the end surprised me. you need to give more details so that it is a surprise, but it’s a surprise that makes a little moer sense. It completely through me off gaurd, and probably other readers too.
Overall, you need to give a little bit more detail so its easier to understand and just fix a couple of oddly worded sentences. Other than that, Great job.
FrakKevin reviewed Version 1 -
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“I don’t like you. Please go away and leave me alone.” LOL
This is the funniest thing i’ve read in a while. I really enjoyed when she was listing things about him she didnt like. You did I good job, making them both come off as crazy. Before the end I kept trying to guess if she was really crazy or misunderstood. Sadly she was actually crazy…lol. I enjoyed the way she treated him and the whole thing with the dog. Great job with this..I honestly enjoyed.
DCAllen reviewed Version 1 -
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Love the ode: creative. After the ode, the perspective changes abruptly to Robert’s through the narrator. Intentional? If not, could there be a better transition here? I see as subsequent paragraphs unfold that this change in perspective is intentional (the fact that Jean is actually the one who suggests going to the fete).
Wonderful ending. Mistaken identity. I had to go back and reread the part when he waited outside her house. You could, perhaps, repeat this another time in the story so that the reader has number six well branded in his mind. That said . . . excellent idea.
Proofreading notes:
snort with derision. I don’t think with derision is necessary since the character says “Silly old fool”, she said (lowercase)
know better that = than
She met him (tense problem. You’re writing this story in the past tense. Your beginning moment is when this character is getting dressed. Everything before this moment should be in the past perfect: She had met him . . .)
wine-bar = wine bar
over-acting = overacting
actors.” She muttered (In general, dialogue tags should be preceded by commas and then lowercase. The only exceptions are marks of punctuation like question marks and exclamation points. To save credits, I won’t comment on this further, but you should check for this throughout the document.)
smile, Jeff (comma splice. Remedy: either a full stop here or the semicolon.)
She snapped, her temper flaring. (redundant)
got him his as far (typo?)
alone, he might (comma splice. Remedy: use the colon here to indicate that what comes after the colon explains what comes before.)
rounded the his car (typo)
drivers seat = driver’s
galadriel reviewed Version 1 -
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She met him at the local theatre, they were both alone and he approached her at the interval and offered her drink. Shouldn’t it be she met him at the local theatre, they were both alone and he approached her at the interval and offered her [a] drink.
You should fix this sentence. She turned away from the door and Ben’s sad expression feeling like the sort of person that drowns puppies. It doesn’t sound right to me.
I really like the song it was hilarious.
You have a spelling error in this sentence: in fact, so immediate was his influence on her life that this Delilah persona was the only one he’d had to deal with.
Another one is: Thank The Lord for neighbours (neighbors), Robert thought as he sped away, tires squealing as he took the corner too fast in his hurry to escape.
Really really like the story.
Hope you continue.
trav8434 reviewed Version 1 -
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”...should know better that to get…” than
““Honestly.” She grumbled…” Should be a comma, not a period. Happens a few more times.
“She grumbled to herself…” The two clauses in this sentence don’t seem to have enough of a correlation to be connected by “and.”
“He’d been told that Jean…” I think the dashes in this sentence ought to be seperate by a space on either side of each of them.
”..and she, obviously taken with him…” This really sets off the dichotomy of these two characters.
“He’d done a great job…” The final part of this sentence about Jeff runs on with the first part. Maybe put a dash or a period.
“He was just thinking that…” In the latter stages of this sentence, you list some things and then very abruptly go back to a verbal sentence narrating the story.
“Today was going to be a tough one…” Run-on.
“He looked around…” Ditto.
“It was what was wrong…” This could be reworked to reduce repition, which makes it hard to read through.
“He said leaning forward…” I think you’re trying to fit too much information into this sentence. Also, “the his car”.
”...much safer than risking letting her get him inside.” I think you could rework this sentence to make it flow better but still keep the general idea.
This is a fantastic idea and, excepting the few mistakes that render certain parts confusing, you write it very well. Most of the above comments are pithy in relation to the general story, which is very, very entertaining.
Travis
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