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Time Heals Most Wounds · Original Minific ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 400–750
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Second Chance
The drip of saline solution sounded like gunshots. She winced every time a drop plunked into her IV, wrestling with her arm restraints to try and flee. They were too tight; escape was impossible.

The click of the opening door was like a car bomb going off, each approaching footfall a sledgehammer. After a few year-long seconds, they stopped next to her bed. "Good morning," a man's voice said. "I'm glad to see you're awake. We have things to discuss."

He paced to a seat across from her bed-bound position, taking note of each crease in her eyes when they slammed shut. "Am I being too loud?" His footfalls became softer and softer until the creases in her eyes disappeared.

She heard the folds of his suit rustle as he sat down and clasped his hands together in front of him. "You've been in a terrible accident. But, I'm sure you already knew that." He checked his watch for three ticks of its gears. "Don't worry about how I found you. It would take too long to explain, and I want to keep this brief. What's important is that I have the means to give you a second chance. I can send you to right before this happened. Back in time."

Her pained silence unnerved him, but he continued. "No nurse or medical professional has been in this room for two days. Looking at your hospital file, you've received a do not resuscitate order. Why is not public record, but what matters is that, without my help, you will die in this room, starved and alone."

She turned her head towards him. The scream of the burns on her neck were like fingernails on a chalkboard, begging her to stop. She ignored them.

"That's not what you want, is it?" He unfolded his hands and placed each on an armrest. "Let me be clear: I am not doing this out of charity. In exchange for your second chance, you will help me figure something out."

He reached into his suit pocket and unfolded a small paper. "Most of the text on this document has been struck out. There are two fields left visible: your name and the phrase 'kill order'."

Her heart slammed against the walls of her ribcage like a battering ram. The man looked up at the increasing numbers on the monitor. "Please, calm down. No cardiac arrest. Do not resuscitate, remember?" He set the document on her bedside. "You were set up. Someone wanted you dead, and I'm sure you want to know who. I want to know, too."

He knelt down. "Whoever set you up must have something to hide. Something you could have exposed if you were alive. I want to know who did it and what they're hiding. It doesn't matter why I want to know; what matters is that you have a second chance to survive."

He reached into his suit coat and pulled out two small bracelets. "I know you have no reason to trust me. If you're not interested in my offer, turn your head away and enjoy being a vegetable for the short rest of your life But if you want to take a risk for your survival and agree to do as I ask, follow my next instructions very carefully: recall the accident."

Her eyelids wafted shut like falling paper. As soon as they closed, it all flooded over her like baptismal water over a newborn. She could feel the heat on her skin. Shrapnel was buried in her chest, in her arms, in her legs. She could hear herself scream, trying to escape the wreckage.

He looked up at the computer monitor and heard the beeps get faster. "Good." He attached the bracelets to her wrists, locked them tightly, and switched them on. They hummed with a dim, blue glow. "You are about to die."

The beeps were even faster now. "Once you are dead, you will immediately wake up two weeks ago, about fifteen minutes before you entered your car, turned on the ignition, and blew up. As soon as you wake up, hail a taxi and go straight home. Do not go near your car."

Almost a solid tone now. "Carpool to work the next day. I'll be waiting in your office. Do not let your guard down for even a second. Consider everyone a threat."

Flatline.

He stood up from beside her corpse and straightened his sleeves. He smiled. "I'll see you two weeks ago."
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#1 ·
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This plot is too ambitious for a minific: it leaves too much unanswered, and it isn't a complete story. There's no clue given to the reader about why the protagonist was bombed, or who the man is.

I'm not clear on why her sense of hearing is so acute. Being in pain or having injury to the ears doesn't amplify your sense of hearing.
#2 ·
· · >>Murmurpunk
Well, the story fits the prompt, is well written and intriguing, but doesn't finish what it started. Would be an interesting intro to a larger story, but falls down by itself. That's going to get called on a lot, so I'll try to look beyond it.

I don't get much of a sense of character; we never even learn any names. Also, I'm not sure if her hearing is some sort of super power? Maybe part of why she got in trouble in the first place?

The writing was vivid. Although the sounds might have been overdone, they did at least set the environment, though we don't get much visual description of anything but the man. Also, you had a big block of paragraphs that all started with either 'he' or 'her.' Nitpicky, I know. The writing was good, and would be a strong intro for anything to follow.
#3 · 2
· · >>Murmurpunk
[This story was read during our fic-reading event in the Discord chat (a recording of which will probably be available soon). This review will be a combination of my own thoughts on the story and what other people in the chat were saying about it.]

The general consensus seems to be that this story needs to be expanded a lot, and that it's more of a prologue or pilot than a story of its own. And while I agree that I would like to see this turned into a full story, I think that it stands on its own well enough. At the very least, it tells me enough to get me interested and excited.

The possibility that the guy talking here was actually the one who wanted the woman dead and that everything he said was just a ruse was brought up, but it was ultimately refuted by the fact that his actions don't really make sense if that is the case.

I also speculated on the possibility that the length of this story is fitting because, depending on how time travel works here, the entire timeline that this story takes place in ends when the story ends and she goes back in time.

In summary, I think that this is a good story and is very well done.
#4 · 1
· · >>Murmurpunk
J has summarized my feelings here fairly well. I do think the effect of the descriptions was interesting, too; a constant, almost hammering emphasis on the physical sensations of sound? That doesn't make a huge amount of sense, as Trick points out, but the effect was interesting.

This fic is overly ambitious, perhaps, but I appreciate that more than the reverse. Better to reach and fall short, in my opinion, than to settle for banality. Overall, I liked it.
#5 ·
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The resolution at the end did not really get me, and I think it was not prepared well enough. I know the format is short, but I still feel like there could have been hints, not to menation that, as Trick_Question already said, the reader still doesn't know what is going on at the end. I don't particularly get the feeling that the author knows, either. Other than that I don't have much to say about the story. The ominous man is characterized well through his dialogue, and the descriptions are solid, even though you could have mentioned what the character sees, like the ceiling that I understand she is staring at in the beginning.
#6 ·
· · >>Murmurpunk
The click of the opening door was like a car bomb going off, each approaching footfall a sledgehammer. Comma splice here. Besides, the sentence conjures up a cognitive dissonance, since you expect the footsteps to happen before the door opening, not after.

As soon as they closed, it all flooded over her like baptismal water over a newborn That's a weird metaphor.

Well there's not much here, overall. As bizarre at it may seem for a minific, the whole scene feels overstretched to me. Long-winded. You could've shortened this a thousand times and showed us what happened next… or before, instead.

As it is now, it doesn't really stand on its own legs. It's an introduction, at most, to something greater.
#7 ·
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I agree with everyone else here; this was the start of a story rather than a story in and of itself. The story could be interesting, but we don’t see it.
#8 · 4
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Alright! Finals are now over, so I guess it's time for me to jump in here and start talking about my story. So, as is now obvious, I wrote Second Chance. I'll start with the standard postmortem, then I'll address some of the common criticisms of the story, and then I'll move onto addressing individual commenters for anything they may have said that didn't fit with the common criticisms. Also, for those interested, I recorded an audio version of what I'm about to type here as well. This has been a sort of audio-centric round, what with the fic readings and the Discord server's voice channel being more regularly used, so I figured I'd get some practice in with actually talking and using my voice. You can find it here if you're interested in what I sound like.

So with that out of the way, let's get into the standard postmortem. Before I get into anything else, my motivations for writing this story need to be clear. When submitting this story, my main goal was just to finish a Writeoff to the end. My last Writeoff was Illusion of Choice, all the way back in November. You may remember me better as MDNGHTRDHTLN from that contest, and I disqualified myself and my entry during that round and walked away pretty miffed. It's been a long time, and it's been a combination of finishing licking my wounds and not having any inspiration or time to enter a Writeoff. So with this fic, I just wanted to know if I could do it again and get back into it.

Now with that out of the way, let's get onto the story. The main thing I was trying to do with this story was a sort of "context through imagery"; instead of explicitly confirming why the woman may have been bombed or what she saw, I wanted to indirectly nudge the reader in the direction of their own conclusion by the choices I made with my poetic devices. It's something that I was inspired to do by Toni Morrison's "Beloved", which is a novel that almost bridges the gap between fiction and poetry. She does something similar with her prose, and it's something I wanted to try for myself.

For some people, it went over pretty well; Not_A_Hat told me in private conversation that he thought the woman was a spy of some sort, and that's why she was bombed. For others, it didn't, and they weren't sure why she may have been bombed. In my own head, she was an FBI agent. There was actually a line in the second draft of the story that explicitly said she was an FBI agent, but I cut it out both because it would push me over 750 words and because it would directly undermine what I was trying to do with the imagery. If I'm trying to give context through imagery, why would I give explicit context? It would render the point of the imagery useless.

But, well, that's the standard postmortem. Next, I'll look at some of the common criticisms of Second Chance.

This is more of an introduction than a story.
This is pretty true. I knew that stories being more introductions than actual stories is a very common criticism during Writeoff rounds, and I also knew that I didn't really have the time, dedication, or effort to make a self-contained story, so I just figured that I would play to the story's strengths instead of compensating for its weaknesses. I figured that good in one area but lacking in others was better than mediocre in all of them. If I had more time or space, I may have been able to make something better in all areas, but that's not something I can really say for certain. Still, people said it was at least an interesting introduction that made them want to read more, which is something an introduction is supposed to do, so I'd say I did well on that front.

There's little in the way of description, aside from what she hears.
I don't really have any specific reasoning for this. It started because I was binge-watching Daredevil's second season the same day I wrote this story, and Daredevil is blind, but has a very acute sense of hearing (so acute that it's one of his superpowers). In the original draft of the story, I had a line that described what she saw:

Everything was so hazy. The whites and blues of the hospital room bled together, dripping into each other, slathering the room. She couldn't tell what was where with her eyes. But she could with her ears.


I cut it out for three reasons: one, it was taking up too much wordcount, and I needed all the space I could get. Two, it disrupted the flow of the story and stuck out like a sore thumb. Three, I never really used any other visual description, so it felt like a weird detour that never really went anywhere. It didn't add much to the story, especially since I figured I could get by on the basis that most of us know what a hospital room looks like. If I had more space, I would have almost definitely put more visual description in there, but as the story was looking, there just wasn't the space or the use for it (at least, while I was writing it).

Those were the two big issues people had with the story. Next, I'm going to address anything that I feel needs more attention to specific commenters.

>>Ratlab
Thanks for the kind words! I'm at least glad you thought the descriptions that were there went over well; description has never been my strong suit, so I was worried that it would be a weak point. But, based on what you and some others have said, it was the opposite.

As for the "nitpicky" thing you said, I don't really mind. The devil can be in the details, and I think an important part of any art is how the details support the whole. I don't think pointing out repetitive sentence structure is nitpicky at all, and I appreciate you pointing it out, because I wouldn't have caught it otherwise.

>>The_Letter_J
Vaguely funny story about the reading: I was about to go to bed when Hat said "I'm going to read Second Chance next". I had to catch the reading of my story. I recorded my own reading, but I don't know if I'll put it up unless someone wants to hear it.

Yeah, the guy talking definitely isn't the one who had her blown up. He'd have no reason to visit; she's on the do-not-resuscitate list and no one has fed her in a few days. She's very close to death; he'd just have to wait a bit longer and he'd be out of her hair. I don't really have anything for him in my head, but looking back, I was probably intending for him to sound like some sort of employee for a rival government agency, foreign government, or shadowy corporation. Something off-the-books and clandestine who really wanted access to the secrets of whoever his target is.

I never really thought too hard about the time travel aspect, but the story ending because the timeline ends is an interesting thing to think about. I always have issues with time travel, because whenever you go back and change something, the timeline in which you went back and changed something ceases to exist, so you can't actually go back in time and change something because it never happened. Time just automatically corrects itself. Still, it's an interesting angle to think things from.

>>Not_A_Hat
Yeah, I agree with you on the "settling for banality" bit. I'd much rather try something big and fall short, than be comfortable in mediocrity or what is otherwise expected. That's how art stagnates, I think, and I don't want my art to stagnate.

>>Monokeras
That is a comma splice, but I would consider it acceptable. Comma splices are generally thought to be fine if the spliced clauses are both short and similar enough in structure, and I'd say that both of those sentences are. And you'd still hear footsteps both inside and outside the door; putting the footsteps before the opening door would disrupt the flow of the paragraph and be ambiguous if there was someone already inside her room or not, so I started with the opening door and moved onto the footsteps that were closer and much louder (since they're no longer muffled by the door; even with her hypersensitive hearing, they'd still be much quieter than if they were inside her room).

It's maybe not a "weird" metaphor as much as it is an uncommon one, but there's a reason I picked it. There are a thousand different ways I could have described what it was like to remember the accident, but I chose that because of the connotation of baptismal water. When you're baptized, you're reborn in the eyes of the church, and her dying and going back in time is her own rebirth. She's literally reborn in the sense that she died but is now alive, but she's figuratively reborn in the sense that she has a new chance at life and a new goal in mind.

I don't really know what I could do with it being too long; most people seem to think that it could use more on its bones, what with more visual description and context. I'd venture to guess that you were just bored by it, and I'm not sure there's anything I could do to make it more interesting outside of expanding it.