Random Go at a Short Story

[DeeryTheDeer]

I was on a forum and saw a thread that said to be creative and write a short story (really short), so I figured why the hell not. It would be fun. Here's what I came up with: One sunny day, a 12 year old blonde, disheveled boy in blue and rubber duckie footie pajamas was enthusiastically skipping along a coniferous forest floor, taking in the sights of ferns, spots of sunlight on the soil, dodgy squirrels and the sounds of cheerful birds. He was holding a wicker basket that was empty with him, swishing it in the clean forest wind created by his skipping. While there was no trail in this forest next to the interstate and he wasn't even supposed to be there at all, he zipped in whatever direction he felt like, until his unique invisible skipping trail dipped into a rather steep slope that led him down running, then sprinting almost uncontrollably into a muddy lake shore. His legs gave out from the bumpy terrain and sent him falling, flying forward into the cold water. Shocked, a little hurt and embarrassed most of all, he lifted himself out of the freezing water, wiped his hands across his face and observed his pajama feet, which were engulfed in deep mud. His basket had been flung several feet parallel into the water, now gone. His mother would surely know where he's been this time. Fighting away the urge to cry, he promptly stood on his feet as if no big hassle had happened. Staring at the water, he finally noticed that he couldn't see his reflection. He leaned over further, closer, and further more, but still saw nothing but open sky on the water's settling surface, and he suddenly felt a very strange 3rd person out-of-body experience, as if he had never existed to begin with. He splashed the water with the back of his hand, as if to beat the lake into showing his reflection, expecting an answer. Still, no reply came up, and in fact nothing about this entire forest or lake seemed to recognize he existed or had any effect on it whatsoever. He turned back around, and noticed that even the muddy shore had erased his clumsy footprints, seeming as clean and flat as if it was never been touched by any creature before. The boy looked back at the water in front of him, and asked it without hope what the meaning was of all this. The water replied with a distinctive violet ribbon glow, flashing around like a quiet underwater fish. The boy stood with eager expectation, waiting to see what would happen next. The fish began to diminish slightly, as if going deeper underwater. It made the rest of the dark water seem like a deep ocean instead of a shallow lake shore. Slightly frightened but insistent, the boy plunged his open hand into the water and tried to grab the fish, but immediately following the lake pulled all of him in with stunning force and fervor, sucking him down and down and down below the freezing surface, until he was surrounding by lukewarm darkness lit only by the faint, spherical glow of the violet ribbon. Now it no longer felt like a cold, wet lake or a deep ocean in which he couldn't breathe, but more nondescript and comfortable, like the empty void of being inside a womb. He floated further and further down, while his surroundings got increasingly dark, towards that stubborn violet ribbon. As he approached about a foot away from it, though, all of it went away and he woke up in his bed. The nurse came in right on time to give him his paper cup of pills to swallow. He sat up, gulped the pills, and stood up to walk over to the mirror in his room. He sighed as he observed the appearance of a few wrinkles and the beginnings of grey hair on his middle aging, square face and sunken in dark eyes.

[DeeryTheDeer]

What is it about this that no one felt the desire to respond?

[Creation X]

I think that no one responded because there is nothing to respond to. Please be aware that what I'm saying to you is strictly constructive, and isn't meant to be taken in any other way. With short stories (and stories in general) you have to grip onto the reader. You know, "the hook"; that thing that makes you want to keep on reading. What I noticed was that it was a wall of text with NO dialog. To me, that's an instant signal to say "go away". Also, you're way too descriptive for my tastes. I'm not saying other's might not like that, but when I write I tend to let users see just enough for their imaginations to spark the rest of the picture. Basically I light the fire and they keep it going! I'll let you see one of my short stories to help you see what I mean. This story is titled Cliff Hanger and is 100% mine and under my copyright. No one may edit, move, or copy this material without my consent. The two young adults sat at the edge of the shimmering water, their bare feet slipping in and out of the chilling lagoon. The moon danced upon the top, flickering its light into their faces. The newly found bioluminescent creatures at the bottom gave the lake a cyan glow, melting their hearts with its beauty. “You know…” she paused for a moment and looked into his eyes. “I think…” It was hard for her to get what she was trying to say out. She thought it would be so easy, yet her heart and logic were at battle. Her heart wanted to tell him, but logic was afraid of whether or not he would approve. But, like all other times in her history, her heart won the battle. He looked up at her, waiting for her to speak up. “Okay, I think I,” the knot in her throat tightened, “I know. I know that I love you.” His heart, now pounding so hard the water at his ankles spread to the beat of his drum. He stared at her, and she stared at him. The moment seemed to go on forever, just like they wanted. And, without thinking, instinctively, they leaned in, breaking the invisible barrier that lay between them and sealing their lives together. “You know…” he paused for a moment and looked into her eyes. “I think…” Try to add some dialog, and lessen up on the adjectives. As my 8th grade English teacher once told me, "The readers are people too...They're not idiots! You don't have to describe every little thing."