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While I’m struggling to fit in time to figure out how to rework the piece I wrote for TD’s birthday celebration, might as well attempt to lend a hand elsewhere.  Wallet posted:Based on something else I was working on (hope that's kosher), but what the hell? 250 words is not a lot, it turns out. I love the mood of this. The choppy sentences, the descriptions, it’s got a strong vibe. But I also have no idea what happened - I got lost in whether the bones were a metaphor describing something else (the brazier? The location?) or whether they were literal bones. I don’t understand what takes place or where. Is she walking down stairs at the start? Is it a crypt? I think so, and she’s looking for someone important to her? I get the sense of regret very clearly, I just wish I understood the location.
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Nov 19, 2022 22:26
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| # ¿ May 22, 2024 15:50 |
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I said I would post this so I’m doing it, although it’s way too rough and long. Thoughts much appreciated, although I expect them to be pretty high level lol. Cradle to Cradle 290 words While she lived, Susan shared a final wish: “Bury me at the beginning.” Space would’ve been easy, if she’d meant the Big Bang. Even a volcano wouldn’t be too bad, if she’d meant Earth. But she was Susan, so naturally she meant the bottom of the ocean. And the “beginning” didn’t mean where you began, the sandy shallows where crabs inspire guilt for stepping on them. Nor the reefs you can tour in a little glass-bottomed boat. It meant the bottom, where male angler fish spend brief lives in search of a mate to parasitically attach themselves to, where the blobfish roam, where there’s no light except your own. Most people don’t extend their bucket list to the posthumous, but since nothing with bones can live down there Susan was smart to wait. They wouldn’t last anyway, not once the boneworms got to her. Unless she happened to land on a geothermal vent, a bonus volcano burial, after I threw her overboard (I promised I’d be law-abiding once she was gone, so that didn’t count yet, and anyway she asked me to). Not a scrap would be wasted either way—if the giant tube worms didn’t like her, maybe the squid would. But everyone liked Susan. She’d spare the hat off her head against the sun, and tell you how urchins did the same with bottle caps so don’t fret about losing yours. She didn’t—lose enough plastic, she figured, and the ocean will find a use for it. Probably starting with bacteria. It’s usually like that. The ocean, where life began. The place she wanted to go but couldn’t find a way to reach. The only law at the bottom was survival, so Susan would go on breaking it forever. She’d like that.
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Nov 22, 2022 07:48
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