Hey all,
Just a few words, before I share my short story. It's been almost two years since I last spent time in this community (seems there are a lot of changes to catch up on). I had started a new job back then, and didn't find the time to continue posting.
I'm back, because I'd love to take my (fiction) writing skills to the next level. This community of authors and content creators came back to mind as a fun place to do so. I'm hoping to come across many lovely stories, and think along with the authors on what makes them great and what would make them better. And I'd love to meet others here, who'll take the time to look at some of my stories and do the same for me.
Getting back on this platform, I found The Ink Well community. And just today, when I wanted to publish my first short story post, I came across theinkwell Short Story Writing Prize. Which seems like a great coincidence.
Just to be sure, I want to check whether I'm doing this right. The contest announcing post mentioned three prompts. With a little imagination, I can connect my story to the third, redemption, and to my first association with redemption, baptism. But I finished the story this morning, before learning about the contest. I hope that is okay.
The illustration I added is a small sketch I made to go with the story.
Any tips on how to get more involved in the Hive writing community are very welcome! Along with any feedback on writing style, dialogue, characters, story flow, grammar and spelling. Hope to be getting in touch with many of you. And finally, enjoy the read!
Short story:
The Secret to Outliving Everyone
The icy water feels wonderful. Its cooling effect is most welcome on a hot day like this. I try to wiggle my toes in the sand like I always used to do. It’s hard.
It’s been a long time since I last visited the ocean. It’s been a long time since I went on any day out. Since many, many years, I depend on others to help me around. Apart from the nurses, Rebecca is the only person still alive who takes me along now and then. She is in the water next to me. She helped me take off my shoes. White Velcro sneakers, with extra support. Not as fancy as Rebecca’s pink loafers, which have little, shiny beads on them.
The water tickles my feet. I take a deep, shaky breath. The salt in the air reminds me of my younger years. Reminds me not only of the ocean, but also of the taste of salty tears and the sting of salty sweat in my eyes. I used to be the real thing. I used to have real things happening to me. Real boys fighting over me. Real sorrows to cry over. Real problems to sweat about. But it’s been such a long time. These days I only smell of disinfectant, of instant noodles and coffee breath.
Rebecca is a little ahead of me now. She is my last living niece, daughter to my youngest brother, I was twenty-four when she was born. People used to think she was my kid, even when her mother was around. She always had my eyes and nose. My everything really. These days, people can’t really tell us apart. Thin, grey hair pulled back in a bun. Wrinkles, age spots, crooked back, glasses. Old people all look alike to younger folks, anyway.
My toes are really wriggling now. I can still do it. I look up and see Rebecca’s back, moving away from me. “Come on, Mary-Anne,” she says in her croaky voice. “Let’s live a little.”
Rebecca slowly shuffles in deeper. The water is already licking away at the rim of her skirt, which reaches to her ankles.
“Careful, dear,” I tell her.
We look alike, but Rebecca has a different smell around her. It has a little less noodles and coffee, and a little more of the red candy her second son Jamie always brings along. He visits every month, the sweetheart. She gets to listen to his stories, stories about a life which is still full of things. His wife finally started her own business this year. They have a garden where they grow their own tomatoes. His son listens to heavy metal and plays electric guitar, and it drives the family crazy. After Jamie’s visits, Rebecca always gets on the phone and tells me all the details. I know it makes her feel younger, talking to me. It makes her feel she still has a lot to live for.
Rebecca is knee deep in the water now. Part of her skirt swirls around her in the water, like a jelly fish. There is no way I’m following her in. If something goes wrong, there is nothing I can do to save myself. The water is twirling around my toes, just the way I like it.
“This is so refreshing!” Rebecca says. Her raspy voice sounds bolder than usual, more daring. Being around me makes her behave younger too. She acts more alive, takes more risks.
Again she makes the effort of turning her head towards me. I can see how pleased she looks, how much she is enjoying herself. She opens her mouth again, she wants to tell me more. But just then, a receding wave tugs at her slightly. It is only a little tug. But as it catches her in the effort of turning and looking at me, it is just enough to throw her off balance. I watch as the delight in her face turns to surprise, then to fear. She struggles, trying to lift and replace a foot to secure herself again. But she’s outnumbered. By the water and the wet drapes of her skirt and the unsteady ocean floor.
Rebecca doesn’t really put up a fight. There is a splash, a little one. She’s facing down. After a few seconds, some bubbles surface right next to her face. Her skirt is now a larger jelly fish. I can see that the weight of it is already pulling her lower body down. The rest of her soon follows, till she lies stranded on the ocean floor three metres away from me.
Her body sways gently, as the waves come and go. It’s almost like looking at myself bobbing around in the water. But then, I would never get into trouble like that.
I realise there’ll be no more outings. No more days at the beach or at the park. I’ll miss the stories about Jamie. About the children in grad school, and the dog who runs away all the time. I’ll even miss the red candy, which Rebecca always shares with me. I think about how I’m supposed to get home. About who’ll help me with my shoes.
Behind me, on the beach, my white Velcro sneakers are waiting. Rebecca’s pink loafers are sitting next to them. The pink loafers would be easier to put on by myself. And they have those shiny beads.
Rebecca will have people mourning for her. People who will be sad that she is gone. That’s more than I could say for myself. With Rebecca gone, it’s only the nurses who’d miss me. Except they really wouldn’t.
Her ID is in her purse. So is the red candy. It wouldn’t be so hard to take her place. Maybe I could even convince Jamie. It means I’d have a visitor every month.
The high tide is slowly setting in, tugging at Rebecca’s body. She drifts off, a few centimetres at a time.
OH WOW -- what an incredible story! I see how she outlived everyone else... her motto is live and let die...
Thank you! And yes, that's it - you've gotten it exactly! :)
Welcome back, you came back with a bang.
This is a very sarcastic story.
I couldn't believe the emotions that the narrator carried. It was so dark. She didn't see anything good about her life (even down to her slippers) and it is probably because of the way she behaved while alive.
Very good work!!
Thank you!
And yes, exactly :). You summarised it well. She outlived everyone, but (or maybe because) she's rotten to the core...
Welcome back, and good to see you, @amritadeva! I'm not sure it was The Ink Well that was here two years ago. It is too new for that. :-) Some writing communities have come and gone from the platform.
Your story is very powerful. I like how it built to such an impactful climactic scene, but is set in a peaceful backdrop of a pleasant trip to the sea. You have a very readable storytelling style.
As for your interest in more involvement and writing feedback, we have had whispers of how we might make such a thing work behind the scenes and are discussing future plans. It's good to know that there is interest!
Thank you @jayna! True, it probably wasn't The Ink Well then. The community I felt a part of at the time was the Steemit community, but after a bit of reading up I decided to 'come back' to Hive :).
Now you really got me interested, with the whispers and behind the scenes :D. I feel giving feedback, and receiving it, is so important for understanding how writing can be improved. Of course it feels good to hear what others like about your story. But if someone takes the time to point out what they feel could have been done better, a scene or a sentence which is a little over the top, the flow in a story which gets interrupted by dialogue that is just a little lengthy... for me that kind of feedback feels very valuable. Because I would just really love to improve my story telling.
Others can reflect on your writing in a way that is sometimes hard to do yourself. And the other way around, if giving feedback could support others in growing the quality of their stories, I would find that very rewarding!
Whatever ideas are being worked on, I know there are a lot of great minds around here, with a great understanding of how this platform works and with all the capacity to start awesome initiatives. But if there is something I can do to support or think along in starting something up, do let me know. I'd be honoured :D.
Welcome back @amritadeva :)
I think that regardless of the prompts of this challenge, this was a great opening for the contest in terms of what it is expected from the writers. I could see the story arc well drawn in there.
I agree with @carolkean on the narrator being unlikable, completely emotionless in regards to her relative death. But that's the beauty of literature. Stories, like any other artwork, are supposed to cause an effect on readers. Otherwise it would be just a description of events.
Anyway, I liked it and look forward to further reading your work.
So don't go away again ;) hehe, as we say in Spanish "No the pierdas"
Thank you @lacrucita, really much appreciated :).
I did mean for that moment of the narrator's passive response to Rebecca's death to be shocking. But I also tried to build towards it in such a way, that the reader feels there is something wrong with the narrator.
For example, she says things used to happen when she was younger, real things involving tears. But she must have seen so many deaths in her recent years, since she is really old. She has grown cold towards the things happening around her now, she thinks life was only meaningful when boys were fighting over her.
And I tried to show how she's jealous of Rebecca, having her son visit every month. Hinting at how everything about Rebecca's life is better, even her shoes. She quietly resents that Rebecca uses her to feel better about herself.
I think the learning part for me is to understand how much of these things the reader picks up on. Whether they should be a bit more explicit, so that the uncanny feeling that 'something's wrong with the narrator' builds even before the dramatic turn of events. I agree with you, definitely, that stories are allowed / supposed to have an effect on the reader. But I do think I have a lot to learn about how much information to give, and how to make a dramatic turn of events shocking, sure, but also believable enough. Maybe, since the relative dying without the narrator moving one finger is quite absurd, the build up could have been more strong?
Thanks so much for your feedback. And yes, planning on sticking around this time! :)
I picked up most of the things you described. It was very detailed and the flow helped me dive into the narrative.
Certainly, it seems absurd the old lady wouldn't do anything about it. But life can be absurd sometimes. And beyond that,. I think the interesting part wasn't if it was believable or not, but rather what the reader feels when being witness to a death no one cares about in the story. As human nature, we want to save the woman, and wouldn't believe that anybody else wouldn't, especially your own family.. In this respect is when I believe the story doesn't seem real, but I think it's because we are reluctant to see that sort of thing happening, not because of the writer's development of events.
Anyway, I guess we as writers always get the feeling that we are missing something when we finish our stories. I don't know about experienced writers, but it happens to me hehe.
What a dark and unexpected turn of events
I lost all sympathy for our narrator, and wonder if dementia can excuse or explain any of it
(my keyboard is sticking and it may be a software issue Husband is working on it)
Exactly! She's terrifying, isn't she. In her own passive, jealous, disconnected way...
Hello @amritadeva, welcome to The Ink Well - what perfect timing!
I liked this story, it's an interesting question about whether any redemption is involved 😉. You may have already found the writing tips post - inside you will find links to all the previous tips. We have only just started this challenge but I am sure other story tellers will join us as the days go by. I hope you enjoy your stay.
Great opening! I like the way information unfolds gradually. She is my last living cousin, daughter to my youngest brother, I was twenty-four when she was born. Well that's a riddle - is it a sign of dementia or a typo cousin/niece? Back to reading.....
Thank you so much for reading and giving your feedback! And it's a typo :). Not a native speaker, in Dutch we don't have two words for cousin / niece. Will change it right away!
Thank you! Yes, definitely looking forward to reading the other entries!
I found the writing tips and community rules, but nothing really specific on how strict we should be following the prompts as we join the contest. Was it okay for me to share this story as an entry? Or would it be better to write something really related to the prompts?
The prompts are there to get people writing - you can choose any or all and either include them or use them as a jumping off point for your writing.
The main criteria for this competition is that entries have a story arc. You may want to think about whether your story meets that criteria and whether you want to submit another entry to the writing prize.
You have plenty of time to think about it :)
Thank you! And yes, will think about it! :)
Hello! Your post was selected by The Ink Well for quality and has received an OCD upvote! Congratulations! Please keep sharing these quality posts.
Great, thanks!
Wao, subtly strong your story @amritadeva, I liked it a lot although I am sad about Rebecca.