Mike Works posted:

I've posted critiques in the past Fiction Farm threads, but this is the first time I've submitted a short. Any feedback is appreciated.


The Place I Was Before (504 words)

On the stove, White Cheddar Kraft Dinner bubbles next to a plate of sliced wieners. Priscilla’s cheek pushes into the embroidered Vancouver Giants patch while Derek forces a smile. His mother lets go and rubs her thumb along the logo stitching. She asks him when he got this top, and he thinks back to shotgunning Kokanees with Mark in an East Hastings park before that game against Kamloops that had eight fighting majors I don't know what this means since I'm not a sport fan, but I feel it could be cut without losing meaning. the sentence is a little long and 'too much information'-y and one half-remembered bout of concourse shoplifting. And he says, Long time ago.

Priscilla starts saying sorry, I’m so sorry, and it sounds like a general sentiment at first. Then he realizes she’s spotted an unwrapped box of Anthon Berg chocolate liqueur bottles on the counter – a forgotten Christmas gift from the Dutch couple next door – and he tells her it’s okay, but she starts biting the heads off the foil-wrapped bottle necks and tips? drips is a bit weird, but I don't know the brand. Are they tiny bottles? them down the sink one by one.

Your father’s in the playhouse with Benny, she says. Got a surprise.

Grass has gotten long while he’s been gone. I'd use a full stop here The dew drops fall like beehives how do beehives fall?. He knocks on the small door built moons ago years ago? moons implies months to me, rather than years, which feels stupid, but Rick says come in. The playhouse is Benny’s now – old boy’s huddled in the corner, more folded laundry than basset hound at his age lovely imagery, my favourite sentence. Felt eyebrows lift like pinball flippers when he sees Derek, which finally feels like home. sentence doesn't make sense. i don't know what you're trying to say, whether the dog feels like the playhouse is home, or that Derek feels like he's home now that he's reunited with Benny.

Rick’s in his bath robe, knees at his ears, doing Derek doesn’t know what. Metal plates, screws, batteries. The Gipsy Kings escape all tinny from a baby monitor on the table corner, the other monitor surely in Rick’s den next to the record player. Somewhere else: an unused iPod with the click wheel; another Christmas present, which was the first present? this time from a son.

Hey boy.

Rick slides over printed pages of a Wiki how-to website. Building a robot: not the expected welcome home. Page 1 of 12 has a monochrome picture of C-3P0, but instead they’re putting together a door wedge with wheels. Priscilla starts vacuuming over Hotel California, so Rick clicks it off and says, Remember that race car we made for Cub Scouts?

The one with the Lego man on top?

The men puzzle over servo motors and NiCad batteries until the thing’s built. Rick whips his son’s wrist with the remote control antenna as a joke, tells him to give it a test. I feel this harshes the soft mood the piece has had so far, introducing physical pain (even as a joke). may have been your intention, though. It hits Derek that this is the only thing he’s allowed to drive now. The doorstop whirs past snoozing Benny, then jerks left, chips the wall.

I pressed right, Derek says.

Easy fix, Rick says.

Rick turns the baby monitor back on. Bambeleo are you italicising all music, or just band names? just a little inconsistent when the band is the only italicised part so far is quiet behind Priscilla’s phone call with her sister where she’s saying, I don’t know what we’re going to do, over and over until Derek switches it off, and that’s when his father tosses him an O’Doul’s and says, Tastes like piss, then, You’ll get used to it. Rick leaves barefoot. Derek turns to Benny, because someone’s got to ask the question:

How’re you feeling, boy?