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More Work To Do
The wind blew to the West and I stood with it against my back. It wasn't strong, just a bit over what most would call 'gentle'. I could sense that it was about to change, to shift more towards the North. It wasn't time yet, but the time would be soon.
The sky was mostly clear, a few small puffy white clouds dotted here and there as if some artist felt the clear purple sky wasn't good enough for their rural painting.
The sun shone, birds sang and the grass swayed in the wind. It was very picturesque and I deeply enjoyed the view.
I did not often have time to just stand and enjoy a view. The sands of time were always falling, and my work often needed me to act in that pure moment between one gain and the next. So I took these chances, these moments where I wasn't pressured to act, whenever I could.
I felt the shift, the wind slowing and changing direction. I turned with it, to face more towards the South. I did not stand with the wind directly to my back as I had before, but at a cross angle. It didn't fell right, so I moved a few steps further along the dirt road until it clicked in my mind.
Raising my left hand I unfold my six fingers and allow the puff ball of seeds from a common weed in my hand to sluggishly scatter into the breeze. Most of the seeds would fail to land in places they could take root, but one would land in just the right place to grow big and spread more seeds. If those seeds would grow more plants I did not know. It would not be my job that far along. But that one seed that I did know about, that one plant, would be important later. Many things would be quite important later, but, also not my job. Not yet at least.
Having done this job I turn to face the wind now, closing two of my eyes I take a moment to just enjoy the sun on my face before sighing and starting down the road, a smile on my lips.
It really was a beautiful day.
The wind would change again soon, more sand would fall and the night would turn to day. This day would end, just another day to most and the most important day of their lives to others.
And, as always, I had more work to do.
The sky was mostly clear, a few small puffy white clouds dotted here and there as if some artist felt the clear purple sky wasn't good enough for their rural painting.
The sun shone, birds sang and the grass swayed in the wind. It was very picturesque and I deeply enjoyed the view.
I did not often have time to just stand and enjoy a view. The sands of time were always falling, and my work often needed me to act in that pure moment between one gain and the next. So I took these chances, these moments where I wasn't pressured to act, whenever I could.
I felt the shift, the wind slowing and changing direction. I turned with it, to face more towards the South. I did not stand with the wind directly to my back as I had before, but at a cross angle. It didn't fell right, so I moved a few steps further along the dirt road until it clicked in my mind.
Raising my left hand I unfold my six fingers and allow the puff ball of seeds from a common weed in my hand to sluggishly scatter into the breeze. Most of the seeds would fail to land in places they could take root, but one would land in just the right place to grow big and spread more seeds. If those seeds would grow more plants I did not know. It would not be my job that far along. But that one seed that I did know about, that one plant, would be important later. Many things would be quite important later, but, also not my job. Not yet at least.
Having done this job I turn to face the wind now, closing two of my eyes I take a moment to just enjoy the sun on my face before sighing and starting down the road, a smile on my lips.
It really was a beautiful day.
The wind would change again soon, more sand would fall and the night would turn to day. This day would end, just another day to most and the most important day of their lives to others.
And, as always, I had more work to do.
This has:
Some nice images, but I couldn't quite find a story in it. The tense switching from past to present and then back to past again didn't help, either, especially in such a short piece.
Maybe the length is the problem. Maybe showing me the narrator doing something big first would help, something more "important" than scattering some seeds. Establish that the character has the power to do mighty deeds, and then give us this small scene to show the prompt in action and that there are no unimportant actions. The contrast might help make things feel more complete.
Mike
Some nice images, but I couldn't quite find a story in it. The tense switching from past to present and then back to past again didn't help, either, especially in such a short piece.
Maybe the length is the problem. Maybe showing me the narrator doing something big first would help, something more "important" than scattering some seeds. Establish that the character has the power to do mighty deeds, and then give us this small scene to show the prompt in action and that there are no unimportant actions. The contrast might help make things feel more complete.
Mike
This is another of those stories in which you (read: I) end up asking yourself if you're up to snuff to read it, because there's certainly deep inside a hidden meaning or some sort of moral message, but you're a dumbass and you missed it. Then you re-read the fic, and it's no clearer, so you end up feeling really you're a nincompoop.
That's frustrating, and not good for self-esteem.
I can't really appreciate this fic as much as I would like to. It has nice imagery, a vague sense of mystery, but there's simply not enough context for them to gel properly. It's like being faced with a jigsaw puzzle representing some masterpiece, but it turns out some pieces are missing and you're not able to finish it. Give us a bit more info, maybe who's the narrator, to begin with, that will help us unravel the tangle you put in our hands.
That's frustrating, and not good for self-esteem.
I can't really appreciate this fic as much as I would like to. It has nice imagery, a vague sense of mystery, but there's simply not enough context for them to gel properly. It's like being faced with a jigsaw puzzle representing some masterpiece, but it turns out some pieces are missing and you're not able to finish it. Give us a bit more info, maybe who's the narrator, to begin with, that will help us unravel the tangle you put in our hands.
I know it may seem like a small thing to complement the prose, but I really do think your sentences and paragraphs are executed well. Good writing technique really does go a long way towards keeping the reader engaged, especially when you're dealing with this kind of mood-driven, high-level narration.
Unfortunately, though, I've read this piece several times and I still don't think I understand what it's actually about. Is the narrator an alien? A post-apocalyptic mutant? A god? It really hurts a story when the reader not only misses the payoff, but also doesn't even know what the payoff is supposed to be.
I suspect that at least some elements of the open-endedness were deliberate, which was a risky choice to take. But I'm afraid at least for me, you might have veered a little too far in that direction. All of the events in this story felt kind of vague and nebulous to me, since I didn't have context.
It's very difficult to pull of this kind of speculative fiction in such a small word count, so in the end I think I personally would have preferred if this story played it safe-than-sorry with showing the reader what you wanted them to see.
Unfortunately, though, I've read this piece several times and I still don't think I understand what it's actually about. Is the narrator an alien? A post-apocalyptic mutant? A god? It really hurts a story when the reader not only misses the payoff, but also doesn't even know what the payoff is supposed to be.
I suspect that at least some elements of the open-endedness were deliberate, which was a risky choice to take. But I'm afraid at least for me, you might have veered a little too far in that direction. All of the events in this story felt kind of vague and nebulous to me, since I didn't have context.
It's very difficult to pull of this kind of speculative fiction in such a small word count, so in the end I think I personally would have preferred if this story played it safe-than-sorry with showing the reader what you wanted them to see.
