Can someone feedback on this

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Pewe
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Joined: January 19th, 2021, 4:48 am
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Can someone feedback on this

Post by Pewe » January 19th, 2021, 5:29 am

Trish returned home from walking charlie on the flood plane. The sun had set on a wonderful summers day and twilight was fast approaching, shadows from lamposts loitered on street corners.

As she walked up her road window panes of houses that a few hours ago reflected the sunlight were now dulled and a hush in the neighbourhood was accompanied by heat from front garden walls as she passed. In recent weeks she was more likely to have swept away such details, but this evening her imagination settled.

As she opened the large back gate shadows from the wooden slats slid along the kitchen wall and opposite the wall a bed of garden roses looked frayed at the edges from the heat of the day. She would have to water them before bed that evening as dawn would come early again. Stepping in the backdoor ushered in with charlie a feeling of safety as she felt more exposed on the floodplane. When she was indoors things were in their familiar place an envelope of sorts containing all the usual bit and bobs of everyday life.

She would prepare a light supper and then phone Alison, her friend from the environmental protest group, who she had confided in about Tom. For some time she knew that Tom was not compatible with her and equally she was wasting his time. As a younger man he would be able to meet some girl his own age as long as he tempered his idealism, from affar it was an attractive trait, but close up a damn pain.

Trish started chopping vegetables and placed them in a colander then would transfer them to saucepans as this process was underway her mind was taken up with thinking how silent the house was. Eventually she was surprised to be looking down at bubbles rising from the pans that had made their way onto the hobs.

At last on the table were microwaved soup and a side of brocolli. After her supper Trish picked up the phone to Alison.

“Hya, at last it’s done, Alli”, Trish tried her best not to sound too deflated.

“Well it was for the best, how did he react?” enquired Alison hoping for the full shebang.

“Oh I did as you suggested and put the onus on me and he reacted better than expected. Trish answered feeling relieved adding, he turned up about an hour ago to collect his things.”

Alison allowed the silence to hang hoping that this would broaden the conversation.

“I feel depleted of energy Alli and just need to rest. I’ve got the Foodbank interview tomorrow morning, so the first step in a new adventure”, she announced, hoping this sounded optimistic, but a feeling of anxiousness squirmed.

“As they say how does a baby walk, so it’s going to take time to recover Trish, but you’ll get there. It wouldn’t have resolved itself by continuing to smooth over the wrinkles, I’m testament to that with Bill. What can you do with them when their careers swallow them whole - 25 years Trish, declared Aison, waspishly. Adding and all to show for it is an over 50’s women's club since the divorce.”

The bitterness in Alison’s voice alarmed her - was this to be it then washed up like jetsam? She had taken the first step with Alison’s support, but how would it be sustained and moreover, detached from bad habits.

“It’s getting on for 11.30 and I’ve to be at the foodbank tomorrow, so I’ll phone you again Alli,” said Trish and quickly put the phone down. Trish moved from the lounge returning to the kitchen.

In completing her evening chores she lifted her watering can from beneath the sink and slipped it under the cold water tap. A pool of light from the door reached a short distance to the flower beds beside her neighbours garden fence. The white roses with a dash of red in their petals seemed to gleefully suck the life giving liquid from the can. A great puddle of water bubbles momentarily glistened in the muddled light and as quick were gone below to the roots. Back and forth she trotted completing her tasks to water the summer pansies and irises.

Standing at the kitchen door, she looked down the garden on this summer midnight, her senses focused on looking at the dark and listening to the silence. The bushes and grass fronds at the bottom of the garden were silhouetted in the gloom their forms like jig-saw cutouts, lighter petalled plants grainy in the folds of the night and the odd sounds of rustling in the bushes. It seemed that the garden, though alive, hid in plain sight, she knew it was there - always waiting. A formless mass, always beyond touch in any meaningful way as we cut and chopped to our hearts content. Civilisations had come and gone, still this was always ever present, but in the clarity of daylight dismissed, taken for granted, by our arrogance towards plants and trees, because of our selfishness to stamp on difference.

She felt very honoured to witness this moment after having been the handmaiden to the garden by watering the plants. She, the birds, bees and wasps were at most caretakers. And as a reward for her efforts a warm feeling of renewal as in a meditation rose through her feet up, up to the top of her head spreading out along her arms to her fingers tips. The life giving energy pulsed through her once more as it always had only this time she knew its calling to turn away from all her sadness in the knowledge now that the garden was there, so gentle, wrapping her in a warm blanket. She sensed she heard a whisper telling her to be still.

She remembered walking into the house earlier that evening and thinking of the safety of familiar things to be found in what she termed her envelope of experience. But this evening there was an unanswered message that had been discarded for so long about how she was living apart from herself and looking into the darkness had helped her find a suitable reply.

The garden would not thank her for analysing this moment or intellectualising its portent - acceptance from her was all that was required. However there was a desire to intuitively make sense of what she had witnessed. There was an urge to take ownership of this gift not as a possession, but in a willingness to let-go, if needs be as poets do. She had for too many years mistrusted her intuition and instead substituted it for common sense, which led to so many mistakes.

Now it was time to renew her instinct and not pin her hopes on external decision making like a horoscope or some such rubbish.

She pocketed her thoughts and walked in the kitchen, closing the door.

DrifterNZ
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Joined: November 3rd, 2020, 2:06 am
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Re: Can someone feedback on this

Post by DrifterNZ » January 23rd, 2021, 6:19 pm

Hi,
The first question that comes to mind reading this is who is Charilie? He is mentioned a little later in the sentence, "Stepping in the backdoor ushered in with charlie a feeling of safety as she felt more exposed on the floodplane." , which in itself sounds a bit strange to me. I but assume Charlie is a dog, yes?
The sentence, "Trish started chopping vegetables and placed them in a colander then would transfer them to saucepans as this process was underway her mind was taken up with thinking how silent the house was." is also hard to read and confusing. Was this supposed to be two sentences?
You need to check your quotation marks in the line, “As they say how does a baby walk, so it’s going to take time to recover Trish, but you’ll get there. It wouldn’t have resolved itself by continuing to smooth over the wrinkles, I’m testament to that with Bill. What can you do with them when their careers swallow them whole - 25 years Trish, declared Aison, waspishly. Adding and all to show for it is an over 50’s women's club since the divorce.”, as I am not sure that this is all contiunious speech.
Overall I found the story a little slow to get going, but it did prick my interest towards the end.

BKelley
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Joined: January 15th, 2021, 2:13 pm
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Re: Can someone feedback on this

Post by BKelley » January 26th, 2021, 11:48 am

This was a neat glimpse into a moment of someone's life that felt familiar and different enough to be interesting at the same time.

So one thing I'll point out is that while I finally figured out this was set in something like a U.K. countryside, at first I was envisioning the beach/house/gardens in my own country (U.S.). It wasn't until you mentioned passing by the warm garden walls I realized this took place someplace else (because we, unfortunately, do not have great garden walls that would hold heat next to where we would walk up a road). When I realized that, I instantly wanted more detail about things in the scene so I could picture it correctly (plus, I'm just interested in knowing more about a beautiful foreign landscape). This may not be something you need to worry about if this is for a U.K. audience where they already know those details.

I did find some of the lack of punctuation and capitalization made parts a bit hard to read: one sentence would lead into another before I realized it, and putting it together that Charlie was probably a dog, her dog, though we don't hear anything about him again in this section.

LOVE the part talking about Tom--"idealism, from afar it was an attractive trait, but close up a damn pain."

I like that you drew a line between Allison and the main character, because Allison definitely comes across as bitter, and I liked that you made it clear the main character is not on that path.

I did catch myself skimming some of the description of the garden, like it maybe was more than I wanted. I love gardens and like the feelings you were trying to capture but I felt like a couple of strong sentences could maybe hint at the well of feelings you describe in a much stronger way?

Overall, while I can identify with the situation, I'm kind of waiting for a hook to pique my interest to keep reading. Not sure I saw it yet? But lots of good stuff here.

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