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The Coyote of Roseview Park
So what if there was a coyote in Roseview Park?
To Casey, it made no difference, even though her sister said:
"It's wild, Casey. Hungry, wild, and desperate. And I've heard it's mangy, too. Just let the authorities deal with it, and then we can go back to Roseview together. Okay?"
The authorities. Like they could tell a squirrel from a chipmunk. A starling from a sparrow. A public menace from a harmless canine.
Something they could control from something they couldn't. Shouldn't
Roseview Park was never a collection of plants and animals to her—where others cooed at the parts, she admired the whole, the underlying heartbeat tying everything together. If the coyote lived there, then it was part of the park too.
Casey gave her sister an answer—the same answer she gave the big red sign posted at the park entrance two days later. A hard kick that held nothing back.
She watched the red-faced coyote swing back and forth, away and towards, glaring at her with angry eyes that were both glinting. A caricature.
The coyote didn't patrol every one of Roseview's winding paths, bridges and tunnels, did it? It didn't poison the blueberry bushes or fell the high-hanging apples. And it didn't stop her from standing under Roseview's smaller waterfalls, resisting its push, like a thousand warm hands, forcing her to appreciate how gentle a force gravity really is.
No, it was just one animal. At thirteen years old and only growing taller, she knew she could take it one-on-one. And there was a good chance she would never even see it.
There it is.
Casey thought it to herself, careful not to move, or to make a sound.
Stalking through the underbrush, not twenty feet away from where Casey ate her lunch, was the reason the park was closed. It was so shrunken—its fur so ragged. Its ribs were showing. A rabbit hung like a doll in its mouth. A good meal, but it might not be enough to keep it alive.
As it slinked under the cover of the leaves, Casey saw it favoring one foreleg; the other had a narrow gash from shoulder to paw, lined with wet brown fur.
"Whoa," Casey said, and her heart jumped as the animal turned.
The coyote paid her a long, uninterested look. She didn't move. She could talk big, but she still knew to avoid a confrontation.
It limped down a slope, watched over by rows of curving oak trees. It left a trail of brownish blood in the grass, though that could have been from the rabbit, or itself.
It doesn't matter, Casey thought. They're one in the same.
Minutes passed, and the coyote came up again, ducking back into the overgrowth and heading for the sound of running water, it seemed. The dead rabbit was nowhere to be seen.
And Casey was struck with a thought.
I've never seen a coyote's home before.
Stepping quickly, she made her way down the slope. She was off the trail now, away from the lamps and the benches, dropping deeper than she'd ever been in the park. She pressed her toes in the dirty slope, the earth giving way to her shoes a little more with each step. She had never seen this part of Roseview before. Had it always been there? Or had the earth sunk down—maybe even below sea level—just so this coyote could hide from the authorities?
The trail of blood was her guide, but it grew fainter and fainter, until finally it ended, seemingly having gone nowhere at all.
She was in a clearing, under leaves she didn't even recognize. They hung only inches above her head, and she was crouching. Sunlight didn't quite get this far, though it was trying, casting a soft green glow over everything.
A shiver ran up her spine, stopping cold at her heart. She heard a growl behind her, and she turned.
Standing in her footsteps, with a rotting rabbit in its teeth, was a coyote. Its eyes glowed yellow, and its fur bristled fully. Its teeth were shiny and red. Its muscles twitched with every tiny fraction of movement, as it stalked closer. A darkness seemed to emanate around it, although Casey could see, at the top of the hill behind it, the silhouette of a mangy canine looking on.
The creature dropped the rabbit and licked its maw.
There was a weight like wind, a warmth like water, and Casey became part of Roseview Park.
To Casey, it made no difference, even though her sister said:
"It's wild, Casey. Hungry, wild, and desperate. And I've heard it's mangy, too. Just let the authorities deal with it, and then we can go back to Roseview together. Okay?"
The authorities. Like they could tell a squirrel from a chipmunk. A starling from a sparrow. A public menace from a harmless canine.
Something they could control from something they couldn't. Shouldn't
Roseview Park was never a collection of plants and animals to her—where others cooed at the parts, she admired the whole, the underlying heartbeat tying everything together. If the coyote lived there, then it was part of the park too.
Casey gave her sister an answer—the same answer she gave the big red sign posted at the park entrance two days later. A hard kick that held nothing back.
She watched the red-faced coyote swing back and forth, away and towards, glaring at her with angry eyes that were both glinting. A caricature.
The coyote didn't patrol every one of Roseview's winding paths, bridges and tunnels, did it? It didn't poison the blueberry bushes or fell the high-hanging apples. And it didn't stop her from standing under Roseview's smaller waterfalls, resisting its push, like a thousand warm hands, forcing her to appreciate how gentle a force gravity really is.
No, it was just one animal. At thirteen years old and only growing taller, she knew she could take it one-on-one. And there was a good chance she would never even see it.
There it is.
Casey thought it to herself, careful not to move, or to make a sound.
Stalking through the underbrush, not twenty feet away from where Casey ate her lunch, was the reason the park was closed. It was so shrunken—its fur so ragged. Its ribs were showing. A rabbit hung like a doll in its mouth. A good meal, but it might not be enough to keep it alive.
As it slinked under the cover of the leaves, Casey saw it favoring one foreleg; the other had a narrow gash from shoulder to paw, lined with wet brown fur.
"Whoa," Casey said, and her heart jumped as the animal turned.
The coyote paid her a long, uninterested look. She didn't move. She could talk big, but she still knew to avoid a confrontation.
It limped down a slope, watched over by rows of curving oak trees. It left a trail of brownish blood in the grass, though that could have been from the rabbit, or itself.
It doesn't matter, Casey thought. They're one in the same.
Minutes passed, and the coyote came up again, ducking back into the overgrowth and heading for the sound of running water, it seemed. The dead rabbit was nowhere to be seen.
And Casey was struck with a thought.
I've never seen a coyote's home before.
Stepping quickly, she made her way down the slope. She was off the trail now, away from the lamps and the benches, dropping deeper than she'd ever been in the park. She pressed her toes in the dirty slope, the earth giving way to her shoes a little more with each step. She had never seen this part of Roseview before. Had it always been there? Or had the earth sunk down—maybe even below sea level—just so this coyote could hide from the authorities?
The trail of blood was her guide, but it grew fainter and fainter, until finally it ended, seemingly having gone nowhere at all.
She was in a clearing, under leaves she didn't even recognize. They hung only inches above her head, and she was crouching. Sunlight didn't quite get this far, though it was trying, casting a soft green glow over everything.
A shiver ran up her spine, stopping cold at her heart. She heard a growl behind her, and she turned.
Standing in her footsteps, with a rotting rabbit in its teeth, was a coyote. Its eyes glowed yellow, and its fur bristled fully. Its teeth were shiny and red. Its muscles twitched with every tiny fraction of movement, as it stalked closer. A darkness seemed to emanate around it, although Casey could see, at the top of the hill behind it, the silhouette of a mangy canine looking on.
The creature dropped the rabbit and licked its maw.
There was a weight like wind, a warmth like water, and Casey became part of Roseview Park.
Pics
Well, well.
Never trust a mangy canine.
It’d say this one is pretty much average. Not bad, mind you, but not riveting either. The first part, when you try to tell us why Casey foundit necessary to go after the coyote feels superfluous to me, at least. I mean, we don’t reall care much. We care about what happens to her.
And then, the story is – I mean it’s okay. We get an early feeling that something will go awry, and it does. No surprise here, that’s why I say it’s not particularly imaginative.
Middle slate, I’d say, but all will depend on how the other stories fare.
Never trust a mangy canine.
It’d say this one is pretty much average. Not bad, mind you, but not riveting either. The first part, when you try to tell us why Casey foundit necessary to go after the coyote feels superfluous to me, at least. I mean, we don’t reall care much. We care about what happens to her.
And then, the story is – I mean it’s okay. We get an early feeling that something will go awry, and it does. No surprise here, that’s why I say it’s not particularly imaginative.
Middle slate, I’d say, but all will depend on how the other stories fare.
Your Story's Theme Song: Shane Carruth - A Young Forest Growing Up Under Your Meadows
You know, as much as I don't like doing it, I just felt compelled to compare this story to another. Not to any of our wolf-related entries back in September (as much as I want to because wolf, coyote, same difference) but to another story in our current batch that I've reviewed.
When I read this, I had a similar inkling of a gut feeling I had when also reading Colourless Blues, in that both stories had a simple, somewhat straightforward narrative, but I find their merits truly lie in the details of the writing. It's the details that really make up what I like about both entries. The final line of this story, in particular, is a perfect example of what I mean.
However, I think this story failed to do what the other story did for me, in that it just seems to lack focus. I'm struggling to immerse myself in this even after reading it over and over again. It's not that I think every story needs a moral or a message, but this story doesn't seem to attempt at setting out to affect us readers in some way, shape or form.
It's a story about Casey and the coyote, but I don't get why the story's being told in the first place. In fact, I find there are other scenes in this tale's timeline that offer more interesting stories than what we have here. I'd rather we see Casey's argument with her sister, or perhaps the aftermath of her disappearance. Or maybe even the incompetence of the authorities and their failure to handle the situation in some way, shape or form.
Sum it all up, I like the story's execution, but I find the story itself to be middling.
Best of luck to you! Thanks for writing!
You know, as much as I don't like doing it, I just felt compelled to compare this story to another. Not to any of our wolf-related entries back in September (as much as I want to because wolf, coyote, same difference) but to another story in our current batch that I've reviewed.
When I read this, I had a similar inkling of a gut feeling I had when also reading Colourless Blues, in that both stories had a simple, somewhat straightforward narrative, but I find their merits truly lie in the details of the writing. It's the details that really make up what I like about both entries. The final line of this story, in particular, is a perfect example of what I mean.
However, I think this story failed to do what the other story did for me, in that it just seems to lack focus. I'm struggling to immerse myself in this even after reading it over and over again. It's not that I think every story needs a moral or a message, but this story doesn't seem to attempt at setting out to affect us readers in some way, shape or form.
It's a story about Casey and the coyote, but I don't get why the story's being told in the first place. In fact, I find there are other scenes in this tale's timeline that offer more interesting stories than what we have here. I'd rather we see Casey's argument with her sister, or perhaps the aftermath of her disappearance. Or maybe even the incompetence of the authorities and their failure to handle the situation in some way, shape or form.
Sum it all up, I like the story's execution, but I find the story itself to be middling.
Best of luck to you! Thanks for writing!
Alternate Title: Remember the Wolf Round 2: Remember Harder
If there's a genre that has an even harder time doing well in minific rounds than comedy, it's horror.
Take this entry, for instance. This could've been a cool King-esque supernatural story with a personal side to it, but as is we're not given a reason to care for Casey's well-being. Mind you, the protagonist of a horror story doesn't have to be likable, but I simply found myself indifferent to her fate.
I feel like we're supposed to concentrate more on the prose, which itself is actually quite nice. But I can't say this is one of the best-written entries this round, because I'm looking for both style and economy of words, and this story suffers from having much of the prose describe things that don't need space dedicated to them.
The result is that some individually great passages are bogged down by superfluous details that surround them or lead up to them. Take the ending for example; the last line of this story is pretty good, even great arguably, but there was too much white noise leading up to it to make me feel much of anything.
For me it's not polish that this entry could use, necessarily, but a change in focus. Casey is a very bland protagonist, so telling the story from her perspective doesn't do it any favors.
The opening sentence doesn't help either. I had to look up where Roseview Park even was, if it exists (it does), so it's not a setting that carries any significance for me. When the author asks, "So what if there was a coyote in Roseview Park?" I reply with, "Yeah, so what?" Maybe it's because I'm not from that area.
This is definitely a middle-of-the-road pick on my slate. There's not much hugely wrong with it, but there's not much hugely right either.
If there's a genre that has an even harder time doing well in minific rounds than comedy, it's horror.
Take this entry, for instance. This could've been a cool King-esque supernatural story with a personal side to it, but as is we're not given a reason to care for Casey's well-being. Mind you, the protagonist of a horror story doesn't have to be likable, but I simply found myself indifferent to her fate.
I feel like we're supposed to concentrate more on the prose, which itself is actually quite nice. But I can't say this is one of the best-written entries this round, because I'm looking for both style and economy of words, and this story suffers from having much of the prose describe things that don't need space dedicated to them.
The result is that some individually great passages are bogged down by superfluous details that surround them or lead up to them. Take the ending for example; the last line of this story is pretty good, even great arguably, but there was too much white noise leading up to it to make me feel much of anything.
For me it's not polish that this entry could use, necessarily, but a change in focus. Casey is a very bland protagonist, so telling the story from her perspective doesn't do it any favors.
The opening sentence doesn't help either. I had to look up where Roseview Park even was, if it exists (it does), so it's not a setting that carries any significance for me. When the author asks, "So what if there was a coyote in Roseview Park?" I reply with, "Yeah, so what?" Maybe it's because I'm not from that area.
This is definitely a middle-of-the-road pick on my slate. There's not much hugely wrong with it, but there's not much hugely right either.
One of the few stories I've read so far that shows a story, rather than telling it. I guess for that reason I appreciated it more than the other reviewers who have left comments. An interesting, genre-defying piece. I imagine it will rank highly on my prelim ballot.
As others have said, this story's execution is very strong: it shows instead of telling, it makes good use of the length, it's evocative and sad, and the ending is punchy. But underneath the quality of the execution, there's not much substance to this story. I enjoyed reading it, and I don't have many suggestions to make on improving it, but when it was done I was left wanting more.
Still, I think this will rank near the top of my finals ballot.
Still, I think this will rank near the top of my finals ballot.
As long as:
We're talking about nitpicking--or as >>Cold in Gardez puts it, "sharp-shooting"--coyotes are smaller than the average German shepherd, very rarely attack humans, and even more rarely kill them. Go all the way, author, and make this a wolf, I'd recommend.
Mike
We're talking about nitpicking--or as >>Cold in Gardez puts it, "sharp-shooting"--coyotes are smaller than the average German shepherd, very rarely attack humans, and even more rarely kill them. Go all the way, author, and make this a wolf, I'd recommend.
Mike
There's a park near my apartment where I love to take walks, and unbeknownst to a lot of my fellow park-goers, there's a coyote that lives there. I only saw it by accident, like 4 times in the same walk. It was interesting to me, because it was super busy that evening, but I seemed to be the only person who was alone, so I could focus more on my surroundings a lot more than everyone else. I swear nobody else saw it, just lurking in the bushes.
At one point I saw it go up a hill—one of my favourite hills, because it has such a nice view. I decided to let it be, and when it walked back down the other side, I started my own way up, and thought, I wonder what it was doing up here. Oh well, at least it's gone now.
You know. Unless there's a second one.
Horror is something I've never tried but always wanted to. Placing 4th is beyond my wildest expectations, so thanks everyone.
>>Monokeras
Yes, it could have had more of a spin, but I'll defend the "something bad is going to happen and it does" angle, because that's kind of a staple of horror in general. Would look a bit silly if Casey and the coyote became besties.
>>WritingSpirit
Thanks for your feedback! Those are definitely interesting aspects of the world that could be explored. No way could it be done in 750 words or less though. Nuh-uh.
Nope.
>>No_Raisin
Thanks for all your feedback. Not much to say other than I agree with pretty much all of it. Though I will say that I made Roseview Park up. Looks like I had the same idea as the Antelope, California Parks and Rec Department. Great minds think alike, and all that.
I probably should have googled the name of the park.
>>Cold in Gardez
Very stoked to get a review from you, Gardez, and I'm happy you found it intriguing. Thanks for stopping by.
>>GaPJaxie
More substance and creativity. Check, check, check. Thanks!
>>Baal Bunny
Full disclosure, I was going to call it a wolf, except for the fact that wolves are kind of a charged animal at the moment in the writeoff. I figured the Howl in the Dark Hubbub hadn't died off yet, so I avoided it intentionally (not that that stopped Spirit!)
But yes, it's a wolf. If I revisit this story in the future, that change will be near the top of my list.
So, mission success. Expect more horror from me in the future.
At one point I saw it go up a hill—one of my favourite hills, because it has such a nice view. I decided to let it be, and when it walked back down the other side, I started my own way up, and thought, I wonder what it was doing up here. Oh well, at least it's gone now.
You know. Unless there's a second one.
Horror is something I've never tried but always wanted to. Placing 4th is beyond my wildest expectations, so thanks everyone.
>>Monokeras
Yes, it could have had more of a spin, but I'll defend the "something bad is going to happen and it does" angle, because that's kind of a staple of horror in general. Would look a bit silly if Casey and the coyote became besties.
>>WritingSpirit
Thanks for your feedback! Those are definitely interesting aspects of the world that could be explored. No way could it be done in 750 words or less though. Nuh-uh.
Nope.
>>No_Raisin
Thanks for all your feedback. Not much to say other than I agree with pretty much all of it. Though I will say that I made Roseview Park up. Looks like I had the same idea as the Antelope, California Parks and Rec Department. Great minds think alike, and all that.
I probably should have googled the name of the park.
>>Cold in Gardez
Very stoked to get a review from you, Gardez, and I'm happy you found it intriguing. Thanks for stopping by.
>>GaPJaxie
More substance and creativity. Check, check, check. Thanks!
>>Baal Bunny
Full disclosure, I was going to call it a wolf, except for the fact that wolves are kind of a charged animal at the moment in the writeoff. I figured the Howl in the Dark Hubbub hadn't died off yet, so I avoided it intentionally (not that that stopped Spirit!)
But yes, it's a wolf. If I revisit this story in the future, that change will be near the top of my list.
So, mission success. Expect more horror from me in the future.