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Second Chance
“You were touched once.”
I raise an eyebrow as the willowy, raven-haired woman takes the chair across from me. The cafe has plenty of open tables. “I beg your pardon,” I say, crossing my arms as she settles herself. This never happens, and it won't end well.
“Oh, not in that way.” She says, giving me an appraising look. I return the favor, appreciating the faint scent of jasmine she brings, and the way she fills out her lavender blouse. “Well, that has happened, too, but that is a pedestrian matter.”
Of course she's not interested. I shift my laptop between us. “What do you mean?” I bristle, my eyebrows knotting. “And who are you?”
She shook her head and tsks. “There is more to the world than spreadsheets. You have seen something. Glimpsed a deeper truth. Something you cannot explain.”
I snort. I flew into town yesterday, and haven't even started working on the client pitch yet. Looks like I picked the wrong cafe to work in. “That's so vague, it could mean anything. What are you, some sort of fortune teller?”
The cafe door opens, the sweet-toned tinkle of its bell sending a shiver of deja vu down my spine and snapping my gaze to it like a magnet. There’s nothing unusual – just a customer leaving. I turn back to the woman, not saying anything, but I don't have to.
“You have.” She leans forwards, her eyes locking with mine. Only then do I notice the color, as they flash like firelight, a shade that can't decide if it wants to be amber or gold. “Tell me about it.”
Reluctantly, my tongue does as bid. “It was in Tokyo, some years ago. I was there for a class. It was late and I was headed back to the hotel. I think I might have been at a bar or something, I can't remember exactly. But not because of the beer – I hadn't had much.
“I got off the subway at Tochōmae, down beneath the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building. I was heading for the exit, but it's like a maze down there, no matter how good the signs are.” I absently tap a finger on the table. “Have you ever been to Japan?”
She makes a noncommittal noise.
“Well, if you have, or you go, then you know how clean everything is. Even during rush hour it's tidy. At night, it's practically spotless. That station in particular was fancy – it felt more like I was touring a modern art museum than walking back from my train, all white granite and polished black tile everywhere.
“Anyhow, I had made it almost up to the street. It had been a long day, and I was enjoying the evening quiet.
I pause to look at my inquisitor, but she just returns my gaze, her sunset eyes betraying nothing.
“Then I heard the bell. It had a high, pure tone, kind of like the one here,” I said, gesturing back at the entryway. “But more resonant. It definitely wasn’t a recording, and it seemed so out of place that I stopped and looked around, but couldn't see the source. There wasn't anyone around at all, actually.
“I started moving, but only made it a few feet before it rang again. At this point I was getting more curious, and this time it rang longer, so I doubled back to track down the source. It was coming from a hallway I'd passed by earlier, a plain, bare passage that sloped down a long ways until it curved out of sight to the left.
“Curiosity kept me going, until I was about fifteen feet from the bend and then… I hesitated. I don't remember exactly why. I was tired, the hallway was long, and I felt suddenly silly. What was I expecting to find?”
“I do not know.” Her voice is low. “What were you expecting to find?”
I shake my head. “I don’t remember, though I’m not sure I knew even then. I think a part of the me was hoping it was a miko-a priestess, or a magical schoolgirl or something crazy like that.” I smile crookedly. “I guess I’ve watched too much anime. It was probably just a wind chime in a vent.”
“But you are not certain.”
“I’ll never know. I turned away and walked back to the escalator. Halfway up, the bell stopped ringing. I thought about going back, but then, at the top, there were people again. Behind me as well. It was like someone had flipped a switch, and now everyone was coming out of the woodwork. I waited a little bit, but that was it.”
“You poor fool.”
I was quiet for a long moment. “I've thought that sometimes.”
“Then why not go, if you were so close? You have thought of this more than you admit. Were you so afraid of what you might find?”
“Not exactly. Not afraid of what I might find.” I sigh. “More afraid of what I might not find. As long as I didn’t look, it could still be something more than a wind chime in a vent. I suppose it was silly, but in a way it kept the magic alive.”
She gives an unladylike snort. “And so do you kill it in the name of keeping it alive.”
My eyes widen. “Just what do you mean by that?” I say, leaning forward. “You said I'd been touched. You saw something, without me saying a thing. Is there something to that, or is this just some weird routine that you use on random guys that wander into the wrong Starbucks?”
Her eyes narrow as she looks at me. “Not random guys. Just ones afraid to face the world. Still, something may yet be gained.”
“What?”
“Do not concern yourself about it. If turning a corner is so distressing, than this will be a relief to you.” She licks her lips and leans forward across the table, her hand resting atop mine. “I will make certain of it.”
Her breath is hot against mine, cutting off my question about what she means when there’s a tugging in my chest and my hand burns where hers lays across it. I snatch my hand away and there’s a wrenching sensation and I almost fall backwards as I try to put distance between us.
“What the hell was that? I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing, but I want no part of it.”
Her eyes flash as she stands. “You have made that most abundantly clear. Which was precisely why I acted to relieve the burden from you.”
I cradle my hand to my chest “If it’s mine, you can’t have it.”
“Fool. You do not know what you have, and it is not yours to keep,” she says, turning on her heel and striding to the door.
“Hey! Wait! You can’t just say things like that and leave!”
I snap the laptop closed and fumble with the case as the damnable door chime sounds. The buckle fights me and I finally just drop the whole thing, almost knocking the table over as I head for the door. “Watch my stuff,” I growl as I pass the barista, tossing the shocked looking girl a twenty. “If it’s still there when I come back, I’ll double it.”
The door slams open as I barge out, berating myself for idiocy the whole way. This is all probably some sort of setup. My gear alone is worth a hundred times what I left, and the data a couple magnitudes more. But whatever the hell that woman had been going on about has me by the spine.
I glance back and forth, spotting a flash of purple disappearing around the corner to my right. I take off again in pursuit.
Rounding the corner I see that she’s opened up a sizeable lead on the crowded sidewalk, practically dancing around the other pedestrians. I don’t have her same luck, but the crowd melts away with shouts and curses as I barrel forward.
She still reaches the corner and crosses the street well ahead of me, pacing herself so that she reaches the far side just as the light changes.
I have to stop at the curb, gritting my teeth and glaring at the traffic speeding past. Seeing an a gap, I dart out into the street, dodging the cars and ignoring the screeching brakes and irate honking in my wake. The city park is up ahead, and I try to put on more speed.
She’s half a block ahead of me, her dress billowing in the wind and her long legs flashing as she runs. I pelt after her, but only close a fraction of the distance before she reaches the entrance and turns sharply to disappear into its depths.
A few moments later I’m in as well, but I’ve lost sight of her and have to slow my pace and scan the trees on both sides in case she went off the trail. I hope she hasn’t, and the purple dress would be a dead giveaway in the woods, but I’m not going to take the chance of her slipping away.
It feels like it goes on for miles, but is probably just a few hundred yards before the trail comes to a crossroads in a clearing. I’m tempted to swear, but two of the paths are over open ground, with no sign of her, so she has to be down the third. I push myself into a jog again, though I’m starting to feel the strain.
The path is wooded as well, with birdsong and dappled shade. I seem to have it all to myself, which would be great, if I was out for a relaxing jog, instead of running myself ragged in pursuit of an enigma. I’m tempted to turn back but I don’t know which way would be better, so I press on. At least my hand has stopped burning, though there’s still an ache in my chest, like a deep bruise.
The trail turns and I find myself at one of the other park entrances, standing alone in an empty parking lot. It’s quiet and still, except for my own panting as I try to catch my breath. After a moment I straighten up and take a careful look around. Did I go the right way? And even if I did, which way do I go from here? There’s a building with a rear alley, plus a couple sidewalks, not to mention all the cars.
A bell chimes and my blood turns to electric ice. Deja vu. I turn my head like a shark, chasing the fading ring. It beckons me to the alley and I break into a run once more.
My boots crunch on scattered trash until I come to the corner, my feet slowing as I feel that same sense of doubt. I hesitate and the silence deepens, holding me, but just for a moment. Then I take two steps and am around, the woman standing in a courtyard before me, a silver bell in her hands. With a flick of her wrist, its peal rings out again, once, twice, three times.
As the sound fades, I approach her slowly, but she no sign of either fighting or running. “Who are you?” I ask, stopping a few paces away.
“It is not the time or the place for that,” she replies, lowering the bell.
“That’s hardly useful,” I say, crossing my arms. “Why me, then?”
“It would seem that there are no better options,” she says, with a sour expression. “At least not while you refuse give up the touch for another. Why do you fight so for it now, when you would not before?”
“Perhaps I’ve grown, either wiser or more foolish. Older, certainly.” I think back, back to the cafe, and further. A seemingly endless line of hotels, airplanes, traffic jams, microwave meals, meetings, and computer monitors. “I suppose you could say that my other options aren’t so great, either. There are some risks worth taking.”
I raise an eyebrow as the willowy, raven-haired woman takes the chair across from me. The cafe has plenty of open tables. “I beg your pardon,” I say, crossing my arms as she settles herself. This never happens, and it won't end well.
“Oh, not in that way.” She says, giving me an appraising look. I return the favor, appreciating the faint scent of jasmine she brings, and the way she fills out her lavender blouse. “Well, that has happened, too, but that is a pedestrian matter.”
Of course she's not interested. I shift my laptop between us. “What do you mean?” I bristle, my eyebrows knotting. “And who are you?”
She shook her head and tsks. “There is more to the world than spreadsheets. You have seen something. Glimpsed a deeper truth. Something you cannot explain.”
I snort. I flew into town yesterday, and haven't even started working on the client pitch yet. Looks like I picked the wrong cafe to work in. “That's so vague, it could mean anything. What are you, some sort of fortune teller?”
The cafe door opens, the sweet-toned tinkle of its bell sending a shiver of deja vu down my spine and snapping my gaze to it like a magnet. There’s nothing unusual – just a customer leaving. I turn back to the woman, not saying anything, but I don't have to.
“You have.” She leans forwards, her eyes locking with mine. Only then do I notice the color, as they flash like firelight, a shade that can't decide if it wants to be amber or gold. “Tell me about it.”
Reluctantly, my tongue does as bid. “It was in Tokyo, some years ago. I was there for a class. It was late and I was headed back to the hotel. I think I might have been at a bar or something, I can't remember exactly. But not because of the beer – I hadn't had much.
“I got off the subway at Tochōmae, down beneath the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building. I was heading for the exit, but it's like a maze down there, no matter how good the signs are.” I absently tap a finger on the table. “Have you ever been to Japan?”
She makes a noncommittal noise.
“Well, if you have, or you go, then you know how clean everything is. Even during rush hour it's tidy. At night, it's practically spotless. That station in particular was fancy – it felt more like I was touring a modern art museum than walking back from my train, all white granite and polished black tile everywhere.
“Anyhow, I had made it almost up to the street. It had been a long day, and I was enjoying the evening quiet.
I pause to look at my inquisitor, but she just returns my gaze, her sunset eyes betraying nothing.
“Then I heard the bell. It had a high, pure tone, kind of like the one here,” I said, gesturing back at the entryway. “But more resonant. It definitely wasn’t a recording, and it seemed so out of place that I stopped and looked around, but couldn't see the source. There wasn't anyone around at all, actually.
“I started moving, but only made it a few feet before it rang again. At this point I was getting more curious, and this time it rang longer, so I doubled back to track down the source. It was coming from a hallway I'd passed by earlier, a plain, bare passage that sloped down a long ways until it curved out of sight to the left.
“Curiosity kept me going, until I was about fifteen feet from the bend and then… I hesitated. I don't remember exactly why. I was tired, the hallway was long, and I felt suddenly silly. What was I expecting to find?”
“I do not know.” Her voice is low. “What were you expecting to find?”
I shake my head. “I don’t remember, though I’m not sure I knew even then. I think a part of the me was hoping it was a miko-a priestess, or a magical schoolgirl or something crazy like that.” I smile crookedly. “I guess I’ve watched too much anime. It was probably just a wind chime in a vent.”
“But you are not certain.”
“I’ll never know. I turned away and walked back to the escalator. Halfway up, the bell stopped ringing. I thought about going back, but then, at the top, there were people again. Behind me as well. It was like someone had flipped a switch, and now everyone was coming out of the woodwork. I waited a little bit, but that was it.”
“You poor fool.”
I was quiet for a long moment. “I've thought that sometimes.”
“Then why not go, if you were so close? You have thought of this more than you admit. Were you so afraid of what you might find?”
“Not exactly. Not afraid of what I might find.” I sigh. “More afraid of what I might not find. As long as I didn’t look, it could still be something more than a wind chime in a vent. I suppose it was silly, but in a way it kept the magic alive.”
She gives an unladylike snort. “And so do you kill it in the name of keeping it alive.”
My eyes widen. “Just what do you mean by that?” I say, leaning forward. “You said I'd been touched. You saw something, without me saying a thing. Is there something to that, or is this just some weird routine that you use on random guys that wander into the wrong Starbucks?”
Her eyes narrow as she looks at me. “Not random guys. Just ones afraid to face the world. Still, something may yet be gained.”
“What?”
“Do not concern yourself about it. If turning a corner is so distressing, than this will be a relief to you.” She licks her lips and leans forward across the table, her hand resting atop mine. “I will make certain of it.”
Her breath is hot against mine, cutting off my question about what she means when there’s a tugging in my chest and my hand burns where hers lays across it. I snatch my hand away and there’s a wrenching sensation and I almost fall backwards as I try to put distance between us.
“What the hell was that? I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing, but I want no part of it.”
Her eyes flash as she stands. “You have made that most abundantly clear. Which was precisely why I acted to relieve the burden from you.”
I cradle my hand to my chest “If it’s mine, you can’t have it.”
“Fool. You do not know what you have, and it is not yours to keep,” she says, turning on her heel and striding to the door.
“Hey! Wait! You can’t just say things like that and leave!”
I snap the laptop closed and fumble with the case as the damnable door chime sounds. The buckle fights me and I finally just drop the whole thing, almost knocking the table over as I head for the door. “Watch my stuff,” I growl as I pass the barista, tossing the shocked looking girl a twenty. “If it’s still there when I come back, I’ll double it.”
The door slams open as I barge out, berating myself for idiocy the whole way. This is all probably some sort of setup. My gear alone is worth a hundred times what I left, and the data a couple magnitudes more. But whatever the hell that woman had been going on about has me by the spine.
I glance back and forth, spotting a flash of purple disappearing around the corner to my right. I take off again in pursuit.
Rounding the corner I see that she’s opened up a sizeable lead on the crowded sidewalk, practically dancing around the other pedestrians. I don’t have her same luck, but the crowd melts away with shouts and curses as I barrel forward.
She still reaches the corner and crosses the street well ahead of me, pacing herself so that she reaches the far side just as the light changes.
I have to stop at the curb, gritting my teeth and glaring at the traffic speeding past. Seeing an a gap, I dart out into the street, dodging the cars and ignoring the screeching brakes and irate honking in my wake. The city park is up ahead, and I try to put on more speed.
She’s half a block ahead of me, her dress billowing in the wind and her long legs flashing as she runs. I pelt after her, but only close a fraction of the distance before she reaches the entrance and turns sharply to disappear into its depths.
A few moments later I’m in as well, but I’ve lost sight of her and have to slow my pace and scan the trees on both sides in case she went off the trail. I hope she hasn’t, and the purple dress would be a dead giveaway in the woods, but I’m not going to take the chance of her slipping away.
It feels like it goes on for miles, but is probably just a few hundred yards before the trail comes to a crossroads in a clearing. I’m tempted to swear, but two of the paths are over open ground, with no sign of her, so she has to be down the third. I push myself into a jog again, though I’m starting to feel the strain.
The path is wooded as well, with birdsong and dappled shade. I seem to have it all to myself, which would be great, if I was out for a relaxing jog, instead of running myself ragged in pursuit of an enigma. I’m tempted to turn back but I don’t know which way would be better, so I press on. At least my hand has stopped burning, though there’s still an ache in my chest, like a deep bruise.
The trail turns and I find myself at one of the other park entrances, standing alone in an empty parking lot. It’s quiet and still, except for my own panting as I try to catch my breath. After a moment I straighten up and take a careful look around. Did I go the right way? And even if I did, which way do I go from here? There’s a building with a rear alley, plus a couple sidewalks, not to mention all the cars.
A bell chimes and my blood turns to electric ice. Deja vu. I turn my head like a shark, chasing the fading ring. It beckons me to the alley and I break into a run once more.
My boots crunch on scattered trash until I come to the corner, my feet slowing as I feel that same sense of doubt. I hesitate and the silence deepens, holding me, but just for a moment. Then I take two steps and am around, the woman standing in a courtyard before me, a silver bell in her hands. With a flick of her wrist, its peal rings out again, once, twice, three times.
As the sound fades, I approach her slowly, but she no sign of either fighting or running. “Who are you?” I ask, stopping a few paces away.
“It is not the time or the place for that,” she replies, lowering the bell.
“That’s hardly useful,” I say, crossing my arms. “Why me, then?”
“It would seem that there are no better options,” she says, with a sour expression. “At least not while you refuse give up the touch for another. Why do you fight so for it now, when you would not before?”
“Perhaps I’ve grown, either wiser or more foolish. Older, certainly.” I think back, back to the cafe, and further. A seemingly endless line of hotels, airplanes, traffic jams, microwave meals, meetings, and computer monitors. “I suppose you could say that my other options aren’t so great, either. There are some risks worth taking.”
Well, that's one awkward way to begin a conversation.
The whole atmosphere between the narrator and the mysterious lady is just kind of awkward. I'm not given much about either of the characters, so I feel lost. I don't know the narrator, so I'm not sure why the "fortune teller" is talking to him. At the same time, I don't know why the fortune teller or her words caught the narrator's attention, so why's he opening up to her instead of ignoring her?
It kinda feels like an excuse for him to start telling his life story. She doesn't react much during that, so it's more like he's telling it to us. I just don't know why he's doing it, or why she wants to know, or how this anecdote is supposed to affect their conversation. I stopped about when he hears the bell in the Tokyo train station.
The opening here is odd, with a few curious details, but not really in a compelling way. I feel like I need at least a hint of what this fic is promising to deliver.
The whole atmosphere between the narrator and the mysterious lady is just kind of awkward. I'm not given much about either of the characters, so I feel lost. I don't know the narrator, so I'm not sure why the "fortune teller" is talking to him. At the same time, I don't know why the fortune teller or her words caught the narrator's attention, so why's he opening up to her instead of ignoring her?
It kinda feels like an excuse for him to start telling his life story. She doesn't react much during that, so it's more like he's telling it to us. I just don't know why he's doing it, or why she wants to know, or how this anecdote is supposed to affect their conversation. I stopped about when he hears the bell in the Tokyo train station.
The opening here is odd, with a few curious details, but not really in a compelling way. I feel like I need at least a hint of what this fic is promising to deliver.
As an introduction to a larger novel, this could work just fine. As a standalone short story, I can't help but feel put off by all the vagueness (which I assume is an intentional decision). I'm a strong advocate for intentional vagueness--sometimes to a fault--but this is one of those cases where there's simply not enough foundation for that intentional decision to stand on. The writing in itself is crisp and efficient. I just can't parse out where you're trying to go with the plot.
>>Haze
>>thebandbrony
I agree with both of these points. While there are some interesting elements here, it doesn't feel like a story so much as the introduction to a novel. Additionally, it is vague to the point of being intentionally obtuse, in a way that is frustrating to read.
>>thebandbrony
I agree with both of these points. While there are some interesting elements here, it doesn't feel like a story so much as the introduction to a novel. Additionally, it is vague to the point of being intentionally obtuse, in a way that is frustrating to read.
At first I thought I struggled to get into this story because the characters felt kind of intangible—I don't know why they do what they do. The protagonist is awfully willing to open up to and even chase after someone who might just be an insane asylum escapee, and she herself is so volatile that I can't follow anything she does or says. But I think the larger barrier I experienced was that the premise felt even more intangible. Clearly there's some hidden... something going on here, but the reader hasn't been let in on what it is, even a little bit. There's been no rules established, no stakes, no history of the something, just a chase scene. I disagree with the above comments saying it might work as an opening chapter to a novel, because even if chapter 2 existed, there's nothing encouraging me to flip to it.
Sorry if this is all kind of negative but I'm just such a sucker for these types of stories that I was left wanting more. This idea can turn into a really, really engaging story with the right premise, so if you do continue it from here, I think your first step would be to really nail down what exactly is under the surface. Thanks for the read!
Sorry if this is all kind of negative but I'm just such a sucker for these types of stories that I was left wanting more. This idea can turn into a really, really engaging story with the right premise, so if you do continue it from here, I think your first step would be to really nail down what exactly is under the surface. Thanks for the read!
One issue I notice is that the story is trying to portray fantastic events, but using a dry reportorial tone to do so. This combination can be effective, but in this case it’s not quite gelling. As others have suggested, the author should put some wings on the mystery.
Despite what all the others have said about the too vague context and characters, I was enough intrigued to see where this was going (the pace was good). I wanted to understand, or at least starting to understand, something, anything.
But then, we have these two answers:
That was the PERFECT place and moment to start revealing some clues as we are approaching the ending, but instead you decided to keep the mystery complete. That's up to you, but know that it was infuriating.
One last thing, the last paragraph, I suppose, kinda resumes what you wanted to say with this story
The guys has a boring life and realises it only now. Thus, he is ready to follow a seemingly crazy woman. How has this not been hinted at before? Re-reading the beginning we can kinda decipher that subtext but this is very farm from being obvious.
But then, we have these two answers:
“Who are you?”
“It is not the time or the place for that,”
[...]
“Why me, then?”
“It would seem that there are no better options,”
That was the PERFECT place and moment to start revealing some clues as we are approaching the ending, but instead you decided to keep the mystery complete. That's up to you, but know that it was infuriating.
One last thing, the last paragraph, I suppose, kinda resumes what you wanted to say with this story
A seemingly endless line of hotels, airplanes, traffic jams, microwave meals, meetings, and computer monitors. “I suppose you could say that my other options aren’t so great, either. There are some risks worth taking.”
The guys has a boring life and realises it only now. Thus, he is ready to follow a seemingly crazy woman. How has this not been hinted at before? Re-reading the beginning we can kinda decipher that subtext but this is very farm from being obvious.
tl;dr: A story that only covers the first third of the hero's journey in fairly direct terms, leading to a rather unsatisfying conclusion.
Its worth noting, as I go into this review, that I use this particular arc a decent amount myself: answering the call to adventure. Which can be a satisfying story arc, but for that to happen, answering the call needs to encapsulate more than literally just going "I wanna answer the adventure call." It needs to be them actually doing something heroic or noteworthy. They must rise to the occasion.
Here... our hero really doesn't. There's no actual challenge for them to overcome, just a need to pursue the weird, and ultimately, that doesn't feel like a particularly strong arc. We don't really have a good sense that their life is so miserable or dull that they need this, either, so it doesn't feel like a particular triumph for the main either.
This is going into super nitpicky territory, but that "Why do you fight for it now?" really bugs me. Like a lot of times it is used, it is because the situation is rather different now. A bell ringing in a subway is a fairly mild thing compared to this strange woman showing up, talking shit, trying to do things, etc. If you really want this to be a comparison, the other incident and this incident need to have similar weight.
The idea presented here CAN work. You just need to add real weight and tension to it. Give the character a real reason to be afraid of accepting the call and a real reason to need to do it. That'll create a satisfying arc that will let you get away with leaving the story off at that point.
Its worth noting, as I go into this review, that I use this particular arc a decent amount myself: answering the call to adventure. Which can be a satisfying story arc, but for that to happen, answering the call needs to encapsulate more than literally just going "I wanna answer the adventure call." It needs to be them actually doing something heroic or noteworthy. They must rise to the occasion.
Here... our hero really doesn't. There's no actual challenge for them to overcome, just a need to pursue the weird, and ultimately, that doesn't feel like a particularly strong arc. We don't really have a good sense that their life is so miserable or dull that they need this, either, so it doesn't feel like a particular triumph for the main either.
This is going into super nitpicky territory, but that "Why do you fight for it now?" really bugs me. Like a lot of times it is used, it is because the situation is rather different now. A bell ringing in a subway is a fairly mild thing compared to this strange woman showing up, talking shit, trying to do things, etc. If you really want this to be a comparison, the other incident and this incident need to have similar weight.
The idea presented here CAN work. You just need to add real weight and tension to it. Give the character a real reason to be afraid of accepting the call and a real reason to need to do it. That'll create a satisfying arc that will let you get away with leaving the story off at that point.
"Oh, hey, random crazy lady. Let me tell you about this weird and strangely personal moment in my life because you asked me out of the blue."
Not buying it.
Ignoring the far too brief introduction, this was an interesting story. It's got elements of the Weird that I love in stories, and I am strongly reminded of a certain story. I can't recall the name, with is frustrating, but it started with someone discovering a road that shouldn't exist, traveling down it, and discovering a ghost town. It didn't end well. For anyone.
I feel the whole thing is just a little too vague. There's so much missing, and while I'm normally okay with that for stories like these, it feels as if you went a little too far with it.
Not a bad story, but I agree with a lot of the other reviewers: it feels a little too much like a small piece of a much bigger tale.
Not buying it.
Ignoring the far too brief introduction, this was an interesting story. It's got elements of the Weird that I love in stories, and I am strongly reminded of a certain story. I can't recall the name, with is frustrating, but it started with someone discovering a road that shouldn't exist, traveling down it, and discovering a ghost town. It didn't end well. For anyone.
I feel the whole thing is just a little too vague. There's so much missing, and while I'm normally okay with that for stories like these, it feels as if you went a little too far with it.
Not a bad story, but I agree with a lot of the other reviewers: it feels a little too much like a small piece of a much bigger tale.