by David Ackley
As from anywhere on the hillside, Gary could look down and see inescapably the rooftops of the mill with pipes snaking from one building to the next. To this side was the black twisting stripe of the river, glinting orange here and there on ripples reflecting the halide lights over the millyard. After the silence,
Biscuit said, “ I heard they found Carrie Nadeau.”
Once she'd been gone for a week or so, some, most perhaps, assumed she'd jumped off the downtown bridge into the river. She wouldn't have been the first. Far from it, the bridge, with low rails and a long drop to the water, almost seemed to invite it. Numbers over the years had accepted—their easiest ticket out of a place they couldn't live in and couldn't seem to escape.
10
favs |
1362 views
14 comments |
141 words
All rights reserved. |
A snippet of text itself, from a work a long time in progress now, nearly, I hope, finished.
This story has no tags.
Great cinematic snippet that promises a great story.
Effective piece. It had me emotionally involved. I think "glinting orange here and there" is what captivated me entirely. *
This is spot on. I love the economy and the final line really packs a punch. A+ / *
"the halide lights over the millyard"
Nice.
Good writing.
"To this side was the black twisting stripe of the river, glinting orange here and there on ripples reflecting the halide lights over the millyard."
I like. *
A very big story here. Intriguing
Strong, David.
Nice work...so much going on beneath the surface.*
I'm very gratified; all your responses to this piece are encouraging for the rather longer slog of the piece which frames it. Thanks to all.
What everyone else said. Best of luck to you finishing the longer work. *
Very intriguing. I want to know more. *
Thanks so much, Christian and Charlotte. I too hope for more.
Nice writing, David *
Yup... Good writing.