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Long Story Short · Original Minific ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 400–750
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Material Fuckup
Trudge. Trudge. Trudge. Each step echoes hard off the concrete walls of the stairwell, along with the jangle of keys and coins in my pocket. This climb feels way too steep for my aching feet, even though I'm barely up one floor from where I started. I wasn't made to be a night guard. I only took this job to pay rent. At least it's quiet most of the time, and nobody bothers me during breaks. When there's not a stupid fuse I have to replace instead, that is. And the box is all the way up there.

First floor. Today started out so well, too. I was admiring the microwave I brought in to heat up my coffee. At least until the lights went out when I plugged it in.

I don't see why I couldn't have been assigned to a newer building with better wiring. Or, you know, a more interesting job. With a better paycheck. That doesn't require a degree. I don't mind sitting in school, but homework should just not exist. Especially if you can't rush through it the night before.

But this is fine. It's quiet. It's all good.

Second floor. My kids aren't too chuffed about me having to spend so long at work though. I got them really expensive Christmas presents to make up for it, and they didn't even thank me. I bet the way they've been acting up at school is just to spite me.

I know, I know, being a parent's a big responsibility and all. I keep thinking I should take them out more, or give them dinner that isn't fast food, or even play with them at home. But it's like they don't even want to try to deal with me now. What, a few arguments and that's it? What am I supposed to do? Besides, I still need time and money for myself. I can't just give that up, I'd go crazy.

Third floor. Which I'm not, by the way. Crazy, that is. Even if my partner managed to drag me to therapy once he decided he didn't love me anymore. Now that was a wasted year of my life. It was all “you're not thinking about how he's feeling” and I was all like “well why doesn't he communicate more” and the therapist is like “he is, you're not listening enough, let me recommend some classes” and it's total bullshit, I'm standing there in front of you listening to him every damn time I'm here, what more do you want?

Maybe if I'd done more homework.

Oh, right. Have to figure out how I'm going to buy food next month. There's still that letter on my desk saying how I'm not going to get any child support payments anymore, and I spent my next paycheck on those stupid presents.

Fourth floor. There's the box. I took fuses off the list a while back without buying any because I needed to save up for that microwave. I know I'm not supposed to use that money for the break room, but they don't really expect me to work without hot coffee, do they?

So after I pop the box open and take out the blown fuse, I take a few pennies out of my pocket and start shoving them into the slot. With my winter gloves on so I don't get electrocuted, of course. It takes a few minutes of cursing to get the pennies jammed in there good enough, but once they're in, the lights come right back on. I love the Internet sometimes.

I turn around and head back down. Feeling good again.

Ground floor.

As I open the stairwell door, the smell of smoke hits me in the face.
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#1 ·
· · >>Light_Striker
I can identify with the protagonist. I can sometimes get so wrapped up in my own mind the rest of the world disappears. One minute everything is fine, but blink and the elevator shaft is flooded.

I think everything works well enough. The theme of forgetfulness, the pacing with the protagonist reaching each floor, the relationship with the family, Chekov's microwave, the twist at the end reinforcing the theme. All worked without a hitch.
#2 · 1
· · >>Light_Striker
Interesting in that the protagonist is portrayed as sympathetic and unsympathetic at the same time. While the ending was guessable, it still worked. Small scope, but well composed.
#3 ·
· · >>Light_Striker
I liked this. Surprisingly, because in hindsight, it’s a fairly straightforward story, with no real conflict, just a recitation of facts in a sulky mode. However, I like the (obvious) parallelism between the climbing of the stairs and the gradation in the degree of fucked-ness experienced by the protagonist. And the end, although inevitable, was pretty fun too.

Nitpick: I’m not sure there’s a “smell of smoke” — I mean, it’s smoke. Smoke is not something solid that smells. It’s the fact that there’s smoke that makes you smell it. That’s not clear. What I mean is that “smoke” and “smell of smoke” are the same. If you smell smoke, that’s because you have smoke in your nose.

So yeah, top slater so far.
#4 · 1
· · >>Light_Striker
Trudge is such a weird sound effect and kinda distracting out the gate. Try something else if you really want to convey the sound, or just let the narration speak for itself.

The choice to roll with a female or gay protagonist here instead of the standard straight male option sort of jumps out. No real reason, just stands out because of the standard mold of this character archetype.

I don't think this reads quite as smooth as it could. The characterization is there, but I think another editorial pass or two to really clean up the prose and get it shining would be great.

Protagonist I think ends up being too unlikable on the whole, which is always a problem as it makes reading about them and even feeling bad for their fate a bit more challenging. They are pretty much a jerk and a loser and while it is possible to sympathize with that sort of person, it is a bit more challenging. Consider reigning in the aggressive unlikability just a bit, or give them some stronger positive qualities to at least slightly offset it.
#5 ·
· · >>Light_Striker
Material Fuckup, the retrospective:

Thanks to everyone who read and commented! I'm surprised this made fourth, compared to how I thought I was doing at the time, though I admit after the first few positive comments I was secretly hoping for an unexpected bronze or something. Still!

This was written in less than three hours before the deadline when I wasn't originally expecting to enter anything at all. I'm not exactly proud of that, because I should be more disciplined about it, but there it is. (Also, I had KitsuneRisu's Drunkentale recording on in the background for most of it, and I think it may have helped set the mood.)

The protagonist is not gendered as such in-story (though the partner is addressed as male), but I'll be addressing him as male in the retrospective, if only to put some distance between him and myself. :-P

The way I imagine the protagonist's mindset is that he's lacking or blocked on some essential pieces of an adult personality. He sees life as a series of unfair obstacles, picks the solution to each problem that requires growing or changing the least just to feel like he's done “enough”, then balks at the idea of taking responsibility when it doesn't work. He still hasn't grasped that no, you have to do more than that just to keep what you have; it's often going to be uncomfortable and difficult; you have to both accept your situation and then actively engage with it beyond that, and responding by trying to bargain or complain as though you were owed an easy answer usually goes nowhere while the world passes you by.

He has an inkling that something's wrong with his approach, because when he falls into reflecting on his history at all, he sees that maybe if he'd actually done his homework, a lot of good things he's lost or never achieved could have gone differently. But it's just too hard to give up the false comforts his remaining self-esteem is hanging on, the tokens of control and banal achievement that let him keep up the illusion that he's already making things happen, that he didn't do that much that badly and it's all just a fluke.

And if you don't manage to sacrifice that false competence for actual growth in time, you can pat yourself on the back every time right up through setting everything on fire.

This is inspired by a vague pastiche of some of the worse parts of myself, my past selves, and other people I have known, including some of the “hazards of growing up gifted” that seem to repeatedly pop up in social circles around me. I suppose in a way I was trying to present it to myself as a warning to not wind up like that.

As for the comments:

>>Zaid Val'Roa
>>Ratlab

Thank you! I'm glad the structure worked well for you; I think the pacing and beats were probably the best part of this story.

>>Monokeras

I'm glad you liked it! Regarding smoke: that's true physically, but the implication is that he doesn't necessarily also see smoke; it's the scent that alerts him first, and the implied action after the end of the scene is him connecting the dots. (What he does about it, and whether that's finally enough to snap him out of his pattern of mistakes in the longer term, are left unspecified.)

>>AndrewRogue

Thank you for actually pointing out places to improve! I was hoping that would happen.

I can see what you mean about the protagonist being someone-with-a-male-partner jumping out to you, but I'm not sure that's an assumption I want to induct into my writing habits.

I definitely agree about the protagonist being too unpleasant as presented. That was my main complaint with it when I was reading it post-submission too, since it can put the reader off and overpower other parts of the prose. Some brighter or sweeter tones here and there might make it less relentless, but I'm not immediately sure where to add them. I might play around with it later if I have time. I should also go back and re-listen to the part of the podcast about this story once the recording is up; I think you and the other commentators had some useful things to say.

(I think you mean “reining in”, by the way. Since this is a writing site and all.)

So there you have it. Congratulations to the winners and everyone else who participated, and hope to see you next Writeoff!
#6 · 2
·
>>Light_Striker
Oh, and thanks to Dubs Rewatcher for the half-stolen title that got brought up in the podcast. Eheh. ^_^;