This is a short story I wrote for the PotS & PanS competition but I also just wanted some feedback on how to improve, I've never really written a story before so I am unsure of how good it is so please enjoy ^^ Spoiler The illusion of the forgotten The monotonous drip of the tap, the murmuring hum of the fridge, the beat of my heart, all things that had always been since the foundations of the house were laid, left unchanged even in this lonely state. Each tick of the clock seemed slower than the last. My cold breath was oozing out in front of me like an early morning mist. I watched the door, waiting, hoping for him to return. Each day I sat staring at the door lock, preparing myself for the moment when his shadow engulfed the light from outside as he opened the door with open arms so that I could once again be his. 26 days. 26 days like this and counting but still I wait, knowing that he will return someday. I can still remember the better days like the day we met. Tom. A man with short brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes that never ceased to dazzle me, he always wore the same blue scarf loosely around his neck even in the summer just because he could. He was tall and thin like a basketball player would be yet he rarely lost his perfect smile that excited me every time. When we were together I felt overwhelmed with love and devotion for him, it overflowed as my nerves danced and tingled with delight. I can still feel the warmth of his hand radiating into me as if he was right by my side ready to once again dedicate his time to me. Tom would always come home sweaty and exhausted from a hard days training but never hesitate to speak with me and I welcomed him home. I always listened intently, hanging on to his every syllable, watching his every movement and wanting nothing more for him to carry on so I could forever listen to his soft melodic voice. We used to spend the winter evenings sitting on the sofa watching random old films and laughing at the bad quality of the sound, I could never understand what was happening but even that didn’t bother me, I couldn’t help but feel giddy with joy. To would always warm the fire up and say the same thing, “I think we need more logs Laura.” My name. Laura. I loved hearing him say it, it made me feel as if I could go and fly a rocket to the moon. The thing was, there was never any logs about so we always made do with newspaper and coal. I enjoyed watching the flames flicker and engulf the paper while licking the coal but barely denting it. I enjoyed watching as everything in the fire burnt and crumbled before my eyes- how could something so hard be so easily succumb to the fire’s power? I could never come up with a feasible explanation but nevertheless I continued to ponder it. In the summer, I watched him endlessly as he bounced the hideously coloured ball around the court in the garden, the may he manoeuvred and kept perfect control of the ball made the sport look easy. I longed to be able to play with him but my body prevented me from being of any use. He loved Basketball almost as much as he loved me and he’s always been hungry for improvement, I didn’t mind, it meant I could see his perfect smile as he landed yet another ball in the hoop. I just sat there, taking in the many scents of summer, the pollen of a new flower, a nearby barbeque and even the smell of ice cream as nearby people spooned the creamy sorbet into their mouths. The sound of an ice cream truck would always come around the corner at exactly the same time and I would watch as the sugar hungry children queued with their parents awaiting their vanillary treat of the day. Some weekends I looked out the window as young people threw water at each other, turning that essential compound into a weapon, yet all through their wars they giggled and laughed while finding new ways of delivering fatal blows of wetness. Some went on for hours and at the end they would all walk into their separate houses, dripping with water hopefully heading for a cleansing session. I always adored the scorching heat of summer as it dawned on us, Tom and I used to spend hours going for walks and playing around in the sun’s rays. Every ounce of my body danced and tingled as we ran around waiting for the sun to go in. I will never forget those fabulous times of happiness and tranquillity. But that’s when everything turned. Tom came home one day; I greeted him excited to spend more of my life in his company, but he frowned and without hesitation wedged his foot into my side bellowing something about how he was losing his job due to foul play. I let out a cry as a tear trickled down my face, I couldn’t tell what hurt more, my side or my emotions. I curled up into a ball on the floor wallowing in my own annoyance as I analysed what I could have done to prevent it- surely I was to blame since Tom couldn’t have possibly been so bad tempered that he lost his dream of being the world’s best professional basketball player. Tom stormed out the front room toward his bedroom screaming and cursing about how unsatisfactory life really is. I felt his anger and I wanted nothing more than to be there for him to make him smile but the pain in my side prevented me from moving so I lay there, waiting, thinking of a way to save us both. The next few weeks were the same, Tom slowly sank into the darkness of the living room, the basketball court outside began to become overgrown with weeds, disrupting the smoothness of the concrete, just like the fuzz that became sprouting from his face as he left it untouched, he was permanently glued to a bottle of some kind with a ghastly stench radiating from his sweaty body. I couldn’t do anything; I’ve never felt so helpless as I watched him drown himself in toxic liquid that was surely damaging his body with every drop. There was a permanent indentation of the one man sofa as he slumped in it from day until night as if time made no difference. I began to lose weight, I couldn’t feed myself so what was I supposed to do? My hunger grew over the days, until I started living on open packets of dry cereal and other foods around the kitchen. The coarse flavours swirled around my mouth making even my taste buds gag but it was all I could do to survive. After months of destroying his body, Tom opened the door letting the sunlight flood in as if it had been knocking, waiting patiently to enter. He stumbled out the house holding nothing more than a rope of great tensile strength, I watched as he staggered down his drive, stopping to catch himself on his once proud Mercedes. He was wearing his old ripped up jeans with his black t-shirt that now couldn’t cover his rotund belly. He then left my sight without another word, so I waited; waited for him to come home and tell me everything is going to be alright. I won’t leave, I couldn’t! So now I sit by the door, watching it hoping for the smell of rusting metal and wet floor to be swept away by Tom’s warmth. I will lay here until eternity is over if I must, that is the job of a loyal companion, I am a dog who will live to see the day that my master returns to me.
This was so incredibly sad! I know that's not what your looking for, but I needed to get that out of the way. Your work is very detailed. So much that it didn't hit me that Laura was a dog until the end. Again the amount of detail is so great, that I felt like I was right there with Laura. This is the third or fourth work I've looked over, and each one has been amazing! It seems creative writers lurk in every corner of this Forum. Nice job, I hope you keep up the good work!
