Page critique 5/16/24

[Nathan Bransford]

Below is the page up for critique on the blog on Thursday. Feel free to chime in with comments, create your own redline (please note the "font colour" button above the posting box, which looks like a drop of ink), and otherwise offer feedback. When offering your feedback, please please remember to be polite and constructive. In order to leave a comment you will need to register an account in the Forums, which should be self-explanatory.

I'll be back later with my own post on the blog and we'll literally be able to compare notes.

If you'd like to enter a page for a future Page Critique, please do so here.

The Fabled Falcon - A thriller.
Fletch had bored many students in his time. Although to his certain knowledge, this was the first time that he, Darrius Spencer Fletcher, Ph.D., Professor of Byzantine and Medieval Art, had actually bored a student to death.
The young man was in the front row, sitting upright in his seat, staring unblinking into space.
The seats of the lecture hall ran up in tiers from the small teaching platform, like a mini amphitheater. It was a good turnout, almost a full house, but no one seemed to have noticed the young man’s demise.
At first, he thought he was sleeping. A not unusual occurrence in Fletch's classroom. He took a step toward him. The young man's eyes were wide open, staring not into this world.
Recognition squeezed at Fletch's gut.
He wasn’t one of his students. In fact, from his knowledge, he wasn’t even supposed to be in the country, and certainly not in his classroom.
He stepped down from the platform and approached him slowly, continuing his monologue on the importance of the Italian schools of painting on Renaissance art, careful not to panic the rest of the class. He reached out and placed his fingers on the young man’s neck. There was no pulse.
This was not the first time he had done this, neither was it the first time he had seen a dead man. Though the previous times had been under very different circumstances.
The girl sitting next to the dead man gave Fletch a startled look.
He tried to give her a reassuring smile.
“Do you have a phone?”
The girl nodded.
“Would you call an ambulance?”
She looked to her side. The reality suddenly hit home. She began to scream.
It all got crazy after that.