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Colour Contagion · Original Minific ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 400–750
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Third Date
“You know, I can see auras,” Elizabeth said.

It was our third date. We were just finishing after-dinner coffee at the nice little French cafe down the road from her apartment. We were supposed to go back to her place, pretend to watch Netflix, and have sex. I might even sleep over. It was our third date and I was about to get some.

And now that was starting to look a bit sketchy.

“Auras?” I tried to keep my tone level. Neutral. Curious, not skeptical. Certainly not shading into Oh I see you’re insane territory.

She nodded. “I don’t usually talk about it until I get to know someone. Like, the first thing you say to someone new shouldn’t be ‘Your aura is so pink today!’ They might think you’re weird. But I just have this feeling about you?”

“Mhm.” Coffee. My mug was already empty, but I pretended to take drink. I needed a moment. Little details suddenly made sense: the zodiac sign in her Tinder profile and the thumb-sized amethyst pendant necklace. “So, you can see my aura?”

“Yup. I have to, like, focus around you.” She leaned away from the table, tilting her head up a bit, as though staring at someone standing behind me. Her face relaxed. “You’re very blue. With some red streaks.”

Patrons at the nearest tables were starting to look in our direction. The usual rules about ignoring nearby conversations fell by the wayside when the crazy talk came out. I tried to ignore their looks.

Elizabeth focused on me again, and for a moment we were both silent. Her mouth tightened. She looked down and picked at her napkin, twisting it in her fingers.

“You don’t believe me.” It was so soft I barely heard it.

“Of course I…” I trailed off at the look she gave me and started over. “I’m sorry, it’s just, that’s kind of unexpected. Would you believe me if I said I had psychic powers?”

“Yes.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“Why not? Wouldn’t it be amazing if you did?”

“Yeah, but… That’s just not possible, right? I mean, you’re a teacher. Would you tell your students you can see their auras?”

“No, that would get me fired,” she said. “I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were.” I leaned forward over the table. From this close, I could speak quietly enough that our fellow patrons wouldn’t overhear. “You teach science, right? Chemistry?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything scientific about this? Is there even a name for it?”

“Just aura reading. And no, it’s not scientific. It’s all about feeling.”

“Yeah. So, uh…” I floundered. “So there?”

“Aren’t feelings real?”

“Yes. Well, they’re not physically real. Not things. They’re up here.” I tapped my forehead.

“And is love real?”

“That’s not the same thing. Seeing auras isn’t the same thing as being in love.”

“Really? Have you ever done it?”

“Seen someone’s aura? Of course not—”

“Have you ever been in love?”

I froze. Of course I had. Everyone had. I loved my parents. I loved my sister. I’d dated girls. I opened my mouth to say so.

Nothing came out. I leaned back in my chair and thought of all those past relations. The Tinder one-night-stands, or the casual college hook-ups. The adolescent crushes.

“I…” I stared down at the napkin twined in my fingers.

Elizabeth smiled. It was a small thing. Filled with kindness and no small measure of pity.

Fuck that. I crossed my arms. “It’s not the same thing. Anyone can feel love.”

“Yeah, and I think anyone can see auras, if they really try.”

“Well. That’s not very fair. How are we supposed to know what people feel or see?”

“You don’t have to believe me. But given the choice, I’d like to live in a world where things like love and auras and even psychic powers are real. Even if they’re only a feeling.”

“That’s not very rational.” It sounded petulant even to my ears.

“It’s not.” She stood, and I stood reflexively. She leaned over and placed a kiss on my cheek, lingering for just a moment. Long enough for me to catch a hint of her vanilla perfume. “I had fun tonight. Again next week?”

“Uh.” I touched her upper arm, then let my hand fall. “That’d be nice.”

“Great. I’ll call you.” She smiled and looked above me for just a moment. "Later!"

"Later." I watched her walk away, and wondered what it must feel like to be in love.
Pics
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#1 · 1
· · >>Dubs_Rewatcher
This is really smoothly written. You've got a lot of dialogue, but it never feels like talking heads. And the little snippets of atmosphere-building in the beginning are really effective.

But I do have trouble with what I'm supposed to take away from this one. Judging by our main character's reactions, I think we're to believe that Elizabeth is in the right, and that there's no real difference between feeling love and feeling an aura. The other theme of the story seems to be about the choice to believe in things that makes you happy.

But these themes do seem to conflict with the fact that the MC is awfully passive for the duration of the story. In the end, it sounds like Elizabeth convinced him that love is a choice, and it sounds like the MC is falling for her, but he still had little agency and is left wondering if he is in love.I can't really get over this dissonance.

I'll be interested in seeing if other reviewers had the same reading that I did, because I know I can get these kinds of things wrong. But right now I feel like I'm getting mixed messages, and it's a little frustrating.
#2 · 1
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>>Bachiavellian
Mostly agreed, although I think it skims too close to talking heads for my taste.

I spent most of the beginning thinking that Main Character was dick. What kind of person goes on three (seemingly) good dates with someone, then immediately writes them off as insane after one sentence?
#3 ·
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Neat. It's like a romantic twist on Feeling Pinkie Keen.

Your main character is certainly a dick here, but I do think that's your intent. Even past his reaction to the auras, he clearly states that he's only in it for the poontang. And his inner rationalization for having experienced love before is particularly eye opening.

But it is for him, too. He has an opinion, and suddenly he's not so sure about it, from an unlikely source. I like that stuff.

I just wish he had gone further down that character change. He gets challenged in the story but we don't really see the growth, which is important in a story with an unlikable lead, at least to me.

Thanks for writing! So far you're in higher ranks.
#4 · 2
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Alternate Title: How Can Auras Be Real if Our Eyes Aren't Real?

Oh fucking hell.

I feel the need to apologize for what I'm about to say right here, because in spite of my complaints this a pretty solidly written entry, barring a few phrasing misfires. It's very tightly written in the sense that we don't linger on anything for too long, and while this is pretty dialogue-heavy I don't find it as suffocating as a few other entries this round.

With that out of the way, though...

I feel like I got cheated out of a really good comedy here. Or maybe a really good philosophical slice-of-life deal, but this story doesn't really try to be a comedy, in spite of its premise, and it ends up being very light on the philosophical end.

The narrator, I know I'm not the only one in saying I wasn't a fan of him. He's passive, true, but what's worse is that he seems hung up on things that either don't matter or don't make sense; he goes out with this girl who, from what we hear about her Tinder profile, seems low-key like the neo-hippie type, but he gets all boohoo about her believing in auras?

Come on, man, you ever fucked a pagan? Or a Satanist? Or generally one of those goth girls who likes granola bars and casual sex, which sounds like a pretty fun time if you ask me.

Maybe it's because we know very little about the narrator, aside from the fact that he seems like one of those directionless twenty-something dudes who often thinks about that one girlfriend he had in high school. I swear I'm not projecting here, even though my therapist will tell you otherwise.

Then there's the ending, or rather the lack of ending. I'm surprised nobody's mentioned how much of a whimper this story ends on. A kiss on the cheek? A kiss on the fucking cheek? And then I guess they go on another date next week where once again little to no progress will be made.

Anyway, I wouldn't put this at the bottom of my slate. Probably in the lower-middle. It could use some expansion and revisions.
#5 · 1
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Little details suddenly made sense: the zodiac sign in her Tinder profile and the thumb-sized amethyst pendant necklace.

Well, to be frank, I wouldn't notice either. Though I guess after chatting on Tinder and three days the guy would already have this figured out.
#6 · 4
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Bad author! I'm giving you a homework assignment. Watch this delightful video and give me a two-page single-spaced essay detailing all the logical fallacies present in this story.

The writing is... fine, I guess, but I seriously could not get over how aggressively this story is pushing bullshit. Automatic bottom of my slate. A poorly written story is just dull, this one is actively offensive.
#7 · 1
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For my part:

I found this less problematic than "Shades of White" because it's in first person. Here, I don't get the sense of the author using the characters as cardboard cut-outs while trying to convince me of something. Instead, I see an author showing me a narrator willing to compromising his principles to connect with another person. That's a story to me.

Mike
#8 · 1
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Bottom slate for reminding me of my own writing.

No, seriously, this really does remind me Blind Dating in a World Gone Mad in a structural sense, for better and for worse. The main problem, as I see it, is that the turn doesn't quite feel earned (much like the aforementioned story as well!). Like it is delivered as this stunning revelation that shakes the man to his core, when it'd be really silly if he just said "Yes, I have been in love." The emotional shift is just so strong at the end that I have trouble buying into it. I think the overall course is fine, but you'd be better served by it being an amenable buy into the idea that she'd rather live in a world where all that is real rather than the emotional rocking.

If you do want to do the emotional rocking, I think you really need to establish earlier that this guy is a bit more of a sad sack instead of just somebody looking for a hookup.

Nitpicky, but the diners nearby starting to listen in to this mild level of crazy is weird to me. Like, you don't tend to pick up on surrounding conversations unless you are already listening in or they are REALLY loud/weird.

Thanks for writing!