[Story] Cacotopia

[Frizzy]

Well, I like to post the crap that I write, and what I wrote is another story. I feel very spammy making a new thread for each of these, but it wouldn't feel right to bunch them all into one thread :I

Anyway, here's my next short story. Another one I wrote on impulse.

Cacotopia

Out swung the tattered green shutters, letting the lifeless light dance its way in. Brick walls had long since began their steady crumbling decay. Three stories down, streets flooded with litter wound around the dilapidated estates. And through these decrepit pathways walked both man and woman, hair matted to their face with clothes that had long since become rags. The man looked down from his vantage point to see a few return his gaze with a frozen smile. Always smiling. Never frowning. Always happy. Never sad. With dulled eyes, worn from hardship and pain.

step followed step with a sense of purpose, each one following a path they had taken for time unknown. The man simply watched the world from above with a smile as solid and unmoving as those below. And with eyes with no more life than those below.

He looked up to see the mountain range as he did each morning. There it stood, caught behind a thin veil of polluted fog, holding the empty shells of once vibrant green trees. Grey stone clashed with blackened soil as the world itself rose up to scrape at the grey clouds. His gaze shifted downward as he looked at the lake which sat beneath the imposing uplifts of earth. Still and black. Black and still.

He followed the lake down to the reddened, sand-like wasteland that existed just outside the city. Not even tumbleweeds dared to cross it. A cry from below called his attention as he moved his gaze to its source. A man had fallen in the street, clutching a bloody arm. Within minutes a team of four men in blackened and brown gowns had made their way to him. They picked him up, a man to each limb, and carried him off. His screams of agony following.

The man breathed in deeply, holding the dead air in his lungs for what seemed to be forever. He opened his cracked lips, parched from the limited supply of water, and spoke in a voice as coarse as sandpaper. And with a smile wider than ever, he turned his gaze up to the smudge of light called the sun.

“It's perfect.”

Edited July 3, 2012 by Frizzy

[terminator]

stool cory bro

[Frizzy]

stool cory bro

Something seems oddly unjust about a three word csb post getting reputation whilst the effort driven story gains none.

And the moment I post this I get some rep. Go figure.

Edited July 1, 2012 by Frizzy

[awesomeo_5000]

You have the right sort of pacing and sporadic imagery building skills, but some of your sentence structures are a tad off. Try not to over use words such as and, or word things in unnecessary ways (unless you're writing dialogue by Yoda ) By elaborating on some details, and removing others you can create much longer and flowing paragraphs which makes reading it much more fluid. I particularly like the mountain paragraph. I like the set up are you planning on going any further?

Key:

{} - Remove.

() - Reword.

[] - Replace.

|| - Add something.

Original:

Out swung the tattered green shutters, (opening up {to} the bleak world outside). The brick walls {of the many houses} had long since began their steady crumbling decay.(From three storied up the winding pathways and alleys could be seen, covered in [refuse and litter]). ([And]) through the decrepit streets walked both man and woman, hair matted to their face with clothes (dirty [and] torn). A (few) glimpsed up as a man peered down from the shutters, | | (smiling. Always smiling. Always happy. But with dulled eyes), worn from hardship and pain.

(With purpose they walked), each one following a path they had taken for time unknown. The man simply watched the world from his [vantage point up] above with a smile (no less intense) than those below. [And] with eyes with no more life than those below.

(In the distance) a mountain range could be seen [though] faintly holding the empty shells of once vibrant green trees. Grey stone clashed with soil so (tainted it seemed black) as it [all] rose up to scrape at the (grey), polluted clouds. His gaze shifted downward as he looked at the lake which (pulled) beneath the imposing uplifts of earth. Still and black.

[Again his gaze lowered], this time to the reddened [and] sand-like wasteland that existed just outside the city. Not even tumbleweeds dared to cross it. A cry from below called his attention as he moved his gaze to its source. A man had fallen in the street, clutching a bloody arm. Within minutes a team of four men in blackened and brown gowns had made their way to him. They picked him up, a man to each limb, and carried him off. His screams of agony following.

The man breathed in deeply, holding the dead air in his lungs for what seemed to be forever, {before releasing it in an equally as deep sigh.} He opened his cracked lips, parched from the limited supply of water, and spoke in a voice as coarse as sandpaper. And with a smile wider than ever, he turned his gaze up to the smudge of light called the sun.

“It's perfect.”

Propositions:

Out swung the tattered green shutters, clacking as they opened up the world outside. The brick walls had long since started their steady, crumbling decay. Moving any higher than three stories revealed the maze of winding pathways and backstreet alleys, all coated in a thick layer of detritus and filth. Society walked through the decrepit streets, their clothes dirty and torn with hair that matted to their aged faces. They walked with purpose, each one following a path they had taken for time unknown. The odd passerby would glance up and see a man that peered down from the shutters. His eyes were dulled from hardship and pain, though he was always smiling. Always smiling and always happy.

NEED SOMETHAN

A mountain range hung faintly on the horizon, holding the empty shells of once vibrant green trees. Stone clashed with black, tainted soil as it rose up to scrape at the grey polluted clouds. His gaze shifted as he looked at the lake beneath which pooled beneath the imposing uplifts of earth, still and dark. A reddened,sand-like wasteland existed just outside the city and stretched up to the foot of the mountain. The sun baked any life from the earth, not even tumbleweeds dared to cross it. A cry from the street called his attention - a man had fallen in the street and clutched a bloody arm. Within seconds a four man team in blackened, brown gowns had made their way to him. They picked him up, a man to each limb, and carried him away into the maze, his screams of agony trailing after them.

The man took a deep breath, holding the dead air in his lungs for what seemed to be forever. He opened his cracked lips - parched from the dwindling supply of water - and spoke in a voice as coarse as Dr. Minky's penis. And with a smile wider than ever, he gazed up to the smudge of light called the sun.

“It's perfect.”

Oh I wasn't sure if the guys in black and brown were meant to be bad, but if not one of them's holding his bad arm which isn't very nice.

Edited July 2, 2012 by awesomeo_5000

[Frizzy]

You have the right sort of pacing and sporadic imagery building skills, but some of your sentence structures are a tad off. Try not to over use words such as and, or word things in unnecessary ways (unless you're writing dialogue by Yoda ) By elaborating on some details, and removing others you can create much longer and flowing paragraphs which makes reading it much more fluid. I particularly like the mountain paragraph. I like the set up are you planning on going any further?

Key:

{} - Remove.

() - Reword.

[] - Replace.

|| - Add something.

Original:

Out swung the tattered green shutters, (opening up {to} the bleak world outside). The brick walls {of the many houses} had long since began their steady crumbling decay.(From three storied up the winding pathways and alleys could be seen, covered in [refuse and litter]). ([And]) through the decrepit streets walked both man and woman, hair matted to their face with clothes (dirty [and] torn). A (few) glimpsed up as a man peered down from the shutters, | | (smiling. Always smiling. Always happy. But with dulled eyes), worn from hardship and pain.

(With purpose they walked), each one following a path they had taken for time unknown. The man simply watched the world from his [vantage point up] above with a smile (no less intense) than those below. [And] with eyes with no more life than those below.

(In the distance) a mountain range could be seen [though] faintly holding the empty shells of once vibrant green trees. Grey stone clashed with soil so (tainted it seemed black) as it [all] rose up to scrape at the (grey), polluted clouds. His gaze shifted downward as he looked at the lake which (pulled) beneath the imposing uplifts of earth. Still and black.

[Again his gaze lowered], this time to the reddened [and] sand-like wasteland that existed just outside the city. Not even tumbleweeds dared to cross it. A cry from below called his attention as he moved his gaze to its source. A man had fallen in the street, clutching a bloody arm. Within minutes a team of four men in blackened and brown gowns had made their way to him. They picked him up, a man to each limb, and carried him off. His screams of agony following.

The man breathed in deeply, holding the dead air in his lungs for what seemed to be forever, {before releasing it in an equally as deep sigh.} He opened his cracked lips, parched from the limited supply of water, and spoke in a voice as coarse as sandpaper. And with a smile wider than ever, he turned his gaze up to the smudge of light called the sun.

“It's perfect.”

Propositions:

Out swung the tattered green shutters, clacking as they opened up the world outside. The brick walls had long since started their steady, crumbling decay. Moving any higher than three stories revealed the maze of winding pathways and backstreet alleys, all coated in a thick layer of detritus and filth. Society walked through the decrepit streets, their clothes dirty and torn with hair that matted to their aged faces. They walked with purpose, each one following a path they had taken for time unknown. The odd passerby would glance up and see a man that peered down from the shutters. His eyes were dulled from hardship and pain, though he was always smiling. Always smiling and always happy.

NEED SOMETHAN

A mountain range hung faintly on the horizon, holding the empty shells of once vibrant green trees. Stone clashed with black, tainted soil as it rose up to scrape at the grey polluted clouds. His gaze shifted as he looked at the lake beneath which pooled beneath the imposing uplifts of earth, still and dark. A reddened,sand-like wasteland existed just outside the city and stretched up to the foot of the mountain. The sun baked any life from the earth, not even tumbleweeds dared to cross it. A cry from the street called his attention - a man had fallen in the street and clutched a bloody arm. Within seconds a four man team in blackened, brown gowns had made their way to him. They picked him up, a man to each limb, and carried him away into the maze, his screams of agony trailing after them.

The man took a deep breath, holding the dead air in his lungs for what seemed to be forever. He opened his cracked lips - parched from the dwindling supply of water - and spoke in a voice as coarse as Dr. Minky's penis. And with a smile wider than ever, he gazed up to the smudge of light called the sun.

“It's perfect.”

Oh I wasn't sure if the guys in black and brown were meant to be bad, but if not one of them's holding his bad arm which isn't very nice.

On your comment about them men in the tattered black and brown outfits: perfect. That's exactly what I was aiming for. I wanted the reader to see the callousness of the society and, through this, to double guess the intentions of people taking away an injured man.

I'll edit this post with comments that pertain to the main purpose later.

And a friend once told me "The only way I even understand your stories is if I read the title first". Go figure.

Ok, read through your edits. Love them. But I'll change them when it isn't 2 a.m.

Thanks loads, Awesomeo!

EDIT: By the way, the "Yoda talk" is there to pace the story. I often use it when I want a more sombre, slower tone. Over-elaboration is, in some cases, desired. It's what separates good writing from bad a lot of the time. Compare "Lucy tripped" to "Lucy felt her feet catch against the ground as she began her descent the concrete below". It allows for a lot of room to breath and be creative. Unless you mean something else and I'm missing your point completely.

EDIT 2: There, edits have been made!

Edited July 3, 2012 by Frizzy

[MrZunz]

This is good! You should continue

[Frizzy]

This is good! You should continue

This one is just a short story. If you want one that I'm actually going to continue try "Star Thief" if you haven't already.

I also have, somewhere on this computer, an attempt at comedy writing. I stopped half way but I could upload what I have if you want to read some more stuff by me

[Mr. Darkness]

Dude, this is some nice imaginary! I have a book I want you to read. "Afterdark" by Haruki Murakami. Best book I've yet read. Finished it Almost in 16 or maybe less hours. I really want to find those brilliant pieces in your stories like the ones in that book. That's just my advice .