I added two teeny sentences. Looking for opinions...
On a damp autumn night when the air floated heavily in the fog, sometimes the moon showed itself just right. In an eerie way, it felt familiar: peculiar and foretelling. He’d suggested they search these woods, although he hadn’t told them why. He stopped and gripped his chest. The same pulse—a beacon—that had flushed through him years before was there, feeding his longing, caressing him. The sound hollowed his ears. He would never forget that heartbeat, that hope as he was carried from the bloody massacre and into the shame of a world not his own.
It's really tight(both as in "cool" and snug)! I love it!
ReplyDeleteAw...U R Awesome, Candyland!! Thanks. I'm still so skittish about getting my stuff out there. I think being locked in the house with the four kids for school vacation week was just the kick in the pants I've needed!!!
ReplyDeleteHaha. I know the feeling. And you're not alone. It's more than frightening to make yourself vulnerable, not knowing what everyone will think of your thoughts, (since really, writing is, in a sense, letting everyone read your mind), and hoping you can deliver. Don't be so afraid-YOU'RE REALLY GOOD!
ReplyDeleteThis is VERY good work! I love it.
ReplyDeleteThe only thing I would change is perhaps the "caressing him" line. It, for me anyway, broke this line of imagery you were forming and went in a different direction. But I still adored everything else. I can't wait to read more!
Ballerinablogger, Thanks a ton. I actually took out caressing him. Technically I changed a little bit more. I'll post it here for you:
ReplyDeleteOn a damp autumn night when the air floated heavily in the fog, sometimes the moon showed itself just right. In an eerie way, it felt familiar: peculiar and foretelling. He’d suggested they search these woods, although he hadn’t told them why. The same pulse—a beacon—that had flushed through him years before was there, feeding his longing. The sound hollowed his ears. He would never forget that heartbeat, that hope as he was carried from the bloody massacre and into the shame of a world not his own.
“Head out, but stay close,” Viktor told them, feathering his fingers through his jet black hair and closing his eyes to mentally link. Kahl…Embree, push them towards the outer perimeter, track them, and meet with the others. No one touches them until we know who sent them. Spurring War is not the answer.
Mercedes gripped his forearm, giving her the ability to share thoughts. What do you suspect?
Great, I love that! I get so many mental images and I'm already forming the characters in my head. Awesome work!
ReplyDelete