You are right, the speakers are just passing by, no one important though I should give the guys at the end some more identity. I’m thinking about changing the “you” perspective into a he or she. But I wanted people to relate to the sinking feeling. Did you think it was a little too slapstick? And does the “you” perspective work?
Thanks for the insight on developing the people talking, what else do you think I should add to benefit the story?
Short Story / That Sinking Feeling
Do you ever get into those situations where you just can’t get anything right? Then this horrible thing happens… the sinking feeling. That terrible hollow gut with the hot flash of embarassment? Like your stomach is weighted down?
For example, someone goes, “Man, these city lights sure are fucken cool!”
You say “I don’t think so, it is only the mere attitude that influences your perception to make it seem so cool.”
Heads turn. Music stops. Helicopter crashes.
“Say what?” jaw dropped person responds.
And you think, “Damn I should have just agreed!”
So impossibly you try to explain, “You know, how we feel at the time when we see the lights as they reflect our eyes…”
Guy says, “What, huh what? I don’t get it! What?” then passes out from the stress of trying to understand.
Hands cover mouths wide eyed.
You keep trying. “No, like whatever drug we may have taken at the time seems to enhance our mood toward the light itse-...”
Woman lights herself on fire and runs into traffic screaming. Man stuffs three cigarettes into mouth, lights them off the burning woman desperately and puffs hard coughing uncontrollably.
Then some dumb ass goes, “You took drugs? Oh man, no wonder you are freaked out!”
And everything reanimates and goes back to normal volume instead of bizarre silence. All with an eyerolling but very loud “OHHHHHH!” Stomach feels once again like a stomach instead of a weight.
Later in the night, you are playing cards with the group of friends you rarely hang out with, and you are still asking yourself why. Regretting the whole ordeal. You reach over to pick up your drink but somehow, magically it pops out of your hand, fearing the worst for the carpet your breifly insanely timed lightning reflexes lash out toward the falling drink, you rip it out of mid air but once again it pops out of your grip and up higher into the air, this time you hop out of your chair with some kind of kung fu movie pose of complete idiocy and you swipe your hand across bumping the drink higher, and higher until you finally grab hold of it to find the entire contents are emptied all over your friends.
With soaking wet hair one sighs, “What the fuck?”
You try to explain while you demonstrate trying to catch a poorly acted invisible cup in the air, “Oh, god I’m sorry I was trying to catch it like this, and prevent it!”
and you think “Damn I should have just dropped it!”
The sinking feeling returns, the chain weight hanging in your stomach, the red red embarrasment. You step outside, light a cigarette and realize it’s the wrong end, you lit the filter and it’s on fire, you burn your knuckles pulling the abused cigarette from your lips, you toss it on the ground to find it landed on your friends dog and singed a good chunk of it’s fur in a split second. You gasp in horror and hunch down smacking the poor animal. You put out the fire as it yelps while the awful smell of burnt dog hair fills your nostrils you turn your head away scrunching up your face, clenching your fists, gritting your teeth.
You stand up abruptly, growling, feeling every muscle in your body. “I gotta get the fuck out of here!”
When you turn around you realize your friends had been standing there the whole time, but they never got to light their cigarettes. They stand in awe, obviously waiting there with unlit smokes, lighters in hand, jaws dropped, eyes wide. The sinking feeling once again…
You run away screaming like a human fire truck, “This isn’t happening to meeeeeeeee! It’s all bullshit!”
You run home dodging cars with clumsy athletic hops and jumps. Stumbling, you fall and roll to move out the way of an old man and his alluminum cane. Though you somehow manage to gracefully get back to your feet without losing stride. Gaining momentum, you leap over a row of bushes, with a teeth bearing strain upon your entire body, sweat pouring, and hair tangling. You zoom down an alley like Speedy Gonzalez. No, the Tazmanian Devil! No, a jet fighter bombing Iraq, nothing can stop you!
Until you smash into a man trying to mug a poor old lady.
His gun flies up into the air, everything seems to slow down like the matrix movies. Out of the corner of your eye you see the mugger going for the gun, so you go for it as well, heavy breathing fills your ears, whiny old lady, angry mugger.
You are about to grab the gun at the same time as the mugger, but the old lady somehow winds up between you. Both you and the mugger bounce off her soft frail old body and land on your asses. The old lady falls on her back, the gun hits the concrete hard and goes off. The bullet pierces your skull.
You die.
Almost immediately, powerful pounding laughter fades in like a death metal song and your spirit is ejected from your lifeless flesh. Another larger bearded spirit takes your hand as he laughs so hard he can’t find time to breathe, eventually he speaks.
“Dude!!!” Laughing, he finds a way to stop. “You have to fucking see yourself!!!”
You both vanish and appear in a midst of clouds, an obvious TV screen over some controls, with another spirit laughing. “Rewind the last two hours of his life, he’s gotta see this shit!”
They gasp for air between teary eyed laughter as you watch your life go backwards quickly like a movie on the big screen. The hot flashes, the weighted chain in your stomach hanging… that sinking feeling once again.
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rossipossi reviewed Version 1 -
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Oh, my fucking god that was amazing. I have nothing bad to say. You open it up with something that everyone can relate to- the even more awkward response to something stupid someone said; great, wonderful. You don’t stop there you take to the next level and futher. You make the worst hypothetical day of anyones life. And it fucking hallurious. You should defintly write some more on the same subject or something entirely different. Thanks for the laugh.
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Sparkles reviewed Version 1 -
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Well, it is funny. Don’t delete this, it has some real potential. I would like to see a little more into the mind of your, well, you. Develop the speakers into more realistic people and I think you have something.
emoisamusic reviewed Version 1 -
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This was a very… Interesting story. It was very ironic and entertaining. But it more like seems like those email chains you send to your friends, threatening if you dont send it to 30 people, you wont have any friends. This story had a very mellow texture- im not sure wheather you were going for that.
overall, it was entertaining and charming- maybe to be published in a book of silly stories- although im not sure wheather you wwere in a good or bad mood.
a few suggestions. Maybe you should put details though. Talk about the scenario. How did the air smell like (beer, cigarettes?)
was there a big crowd?
Where were you?
Just because it says short stoory does not ean it has to be limited to detail!
i hope i wasnt too critical. It was a nice story.
kudos, and good luck!
-janice
avedis reviewed Version 1 -
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The potential here is huge, you have only part fulfilled it.
I think it is a mistake to indulge in the slapstick,
e.g.
“Woman lights herself …..coughing uncontrollably.”
Dump this, the point is made well already, this just dilutes it.
Same goes with the wrong end of the cigarette – the dog bit should be separated and treated as another incident.
Also dump the rest of the slapstick, there are enough more subtle examples you could use and which would work far better.
As it is, this is an unhappy dichotomy – half wry half slapstick – a bad mixture.
Have the courage in your ability to handle the wry.
I for one, can identify with what you are saying.
purseonwheels reviewed Version 1 -
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For someone who suffers from a small amount of social anxiety and who often feels like (as my grandmother would say) “the turd in the punch bowl,” I can appreciate this story. And it gave me a giggle. I like the continuing theme of trying to catch things, be it comments or guns, before they fall and it ending up messy. You sewed this up with a finely stitched seam. My only suggestion is that I would like to see the faces of the people around “me” and be able to better visualize my surroundings – might help me better visualize the embarassment that “i’m” feeling. Overall, well done.
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