The yelling began as a hopeful rancor, unoriginal and fixed. For you, it's a nighttime blanket, an old mobile still dangling from your days in the crib, a beady-eyed birdie that calls from its branch to sing you to sleep.
But some inventive taboos dipped their toes into the stream of everyday, a dropped spoon shattering silence on kitchen floors, stalled feet barking like dogs, questions that don't sound like questions steaming from this burning kettle whistling in panic. The television volume softens in the shadows, the sitcom sad and the laugh track an alien radio signal.
Brushing teeth like always, you drop your paper cup. Startling symphony of words sopping in finality, the first memory of feeling more than hoping, of intuiting more than thinking, of seeing through walls to catch the anchor rising.
The yelling is over but the talk is not, the tube's heroes and clowns rise louder again, while the others become static, their tongues crackling and hissing like a fireplace soundtrack to fit the homey comfort (and humor) of life on TV.
Into your stomach, eyes turn narrow, vision blurry, and navel unresponsive. Sad water sits spilled still on tiles. A slam sounds and you know this time's different.
A thumb suck like your mom's cigarette, the carefree life of a child.
It's too esoteric for me Sean.I don't understand. Perhaps I'm not that sophisticated a reader.
The phraseology is intriguing, 'Sad water sits spilled still on tiles' is beautiful and sad. I also like 'intuiting more than thinking'.
Somehow though, the line 'A slam sounds and you know this time's different' makes me think someone you care about (or you think should have cared more for you) left.
Thanks for the comments, Steve. It is a bit esoteric, I usually write in a much more straight-forward, grounded way. But I'm happy that some of the lines stood out to you. It's essentially a poetic mediation on a child listening in to his parents argue, a violent sound juxtaposed against the banality of a TV sitcom blaring in the living room. You are right about the door slam.
Sean, I like the second person POV, suits this shorter flash format. As Steve pointed out, you have some lovely poetic lines, and the premise is inherent in the piece. What would work for me is if the stakes were slightly higher for the MC. Might try it all in first person, gives the reader a more intimate closeness? You have the pathos here, and some lovely writing.
Now that I know what this is about, I think it is brilliant and I think you could tweak it just a bit to clarify what it is, for example specify exactly what is being watched on TV like Elmo and Big Bird and Cookie Monster and the endless repetition of the word of the day on Sesame Street. You could come up with a good one like "loud" and "soft." The contrasts would make it more powerful. The TV show needs to be more specific, having listened to it endlessly. Hope this helps.
Thank you to everyone for such specific feedback, you can't buy that kind of critiquing and it is much appreciated!
I like your thinking about "higher stakes," Robert, and it immediately gives me an idea. And Gloria, actually bringing in the TV show sounds a little challenging but would create impact. You both give me ideas for experimentation, thank you very much.
Sean,
From "nighttime blanket" to "A thumb suck", you've got this "baby" all wrapped up in a tale of absurd, scary, relatable, memorable, Life on Earth...any year from 1950 on I would guess....moments. You made all the words so audible. Loved this!
So glad you enjoyed it, Carl. Thank you for reading.
This is a really interesting piece, Sean, one that I can read over and over (a good sign). I wasn't sure, at first, how I felt about the second line, the nighttime blanket, but the more I read it, the more it sticks with me & the more I like it.
You know Christi that's funny because it's a line that jarred me when I read over it. I still find it awkward but oddly enough it feels right anyway. It's gratifying to hear you've read this more than once. Thank you.