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The Heart Of The Storm
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TITLE (EDIT)
The Heart Of The Storm
DESCRIPTION
A bad storm makes me think.
[586 words]
AUTHOR
C G L Davies
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I'm 17, female from the land of sheep and song (ie Wales). Likes to write short descriptive stuff and stories. First got into stories when I was a kid, about 6 or so, started writing for a hobby around 15. I need feedback, please post your opinions!
[June 2002]
The Heart Of The Storm
C G L Davies

Thunder rolled in my ears and lightning flashed so I could see the backs of my own eyes. The thunder was deafening, cracking through the midnight skies illuminating whole towns and villages momentarily; causing wild animals to go scuttling under cover.

Silence. Then once again a mighty crack of thunder then a low grumble. I counted six seconds before the lightning came again. Rain poured down the bay window in my bedroom from where I was watching, and a few drops seeped in through the faulty seals. I absent-mindedly wiped them off and watched the water drip down my finger, past my knuckles and freckles and onto my life line on my hand. Suddenly I heard the thunder again and counted just two seconds before the thunder. I saw a black cat's eyes glinting in fear before it jumped through a house’s window into safety.

My parents were downstairs, doing the daily crossword in the paper before they went to bed. No doubt one of my three cats would be curled up on my mum's lap. He's got a soft spot for her, probably only because she's the one who feeds him. My white kitten and old tabby cat were also in the kitchen, sprawled on the worktop, quite unperturbed by the noise. They were quite used to storms. Even though it wasn’t hot where I was at that moment it had been a blisteringly hot day and the electricity had been charging up in the sky all day long. Now it was finally getting a chance to be heard.

It was deathly still outside except for the rain. There was nobody about in cars driving along the main road outside my house like there normally were. This was a particularly vicious storm. The wind outside howled and it was almost possible to hear werewolves howling with it too if you listened carefully and used your imagination. I could see it now, werewolves on the top of a hill, facing the full moon and howling to their hearts content. It wasn’t a full moon tonight, it had started waning again a week or so back. It was just visible through the dark thunderous clouds in the sky, shining through, silver, craters visible to the naked eye.

All the electricity in the air really made me think. Maybe it charged up my brain, I don’t know. I started to think about why I was really here, on this earth of so much suffering and pain and yet so much delight and happiness too. I was pretty damn insignificant, I was just an average teenager, I hadn’t done anything particularly earth shattering or the like. I began to think that the world really wouldn’t notice me if I was gone, except for my friends and family of course. It was then that I decided to tell everyone that I loved them more often in case I didn’t get a chance to again. Whilst this thought scared me it made me feel safe in a strange sort of way.

I was so absorbed in my psychological thinking about the wonders of the world when I looked up and realised the rain had stopped and it was drying up. The black cat I’d seen earlier was just visible sauntering down the garden path, tail waving. The atmosphere was placid again, rain gently dripped from leaves into near full water barrels and birdbaths.

It was calm once more. I smiled to myself, pulled my blind down and got back into bed.

 

READER'S REVIEWS (3)
DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.

"Hey - this is interesting. I like all of your stuff, really, it requires a reader to use his/her imagination... - by the way, A Chance Reunion made me cry! Good job :)" -- Brooklyn Ashes.
"It might be worth it to you to seek out Branson Storm. He'd probably get a kick out of something poetic and 'storm' related.--The Advisor" -- JA St.George.
"Ms. Davies, please allow me to thank you for your kindness in taking the time to read my work and, furthermore, for commenting on it with such afflatus. I have read your descriptive piece, ‘The Heart of the Storm’, and though I am no critic and have no ambitions toward critiquing works of other writers, as I am just a lowly writer myself, I will try to shed some light on your work that will hopefully be of some help to you. Before getting into the piece itself, I’d like you to know that the main impression I got from your writing was that you are a serious writer in youthful blossom, videlicet, you write for yourself and not for a particular market. In my opinion this is the only way to write. It is also the best way to avoid compromise and, therefore, mediocrity. Now, onward through the fog… ‘The Heart of the Storm’: I’m a bit confused as to how you folks in Wales judge the distance of a storm from your particular place on the planet. I say this because of the second and third sentence in the second paragraph, “Then once again a mighty crack of thunder then a low grumble. I counted six seconds before the lightning came again.” Sixth sentence same paragraph, “Suddenly I heard the thunder again and counted just two seconds before the thunder.” You may just be being descriptive, or there is most likely a reason for your counting the seconds of interim, as if to judge the distance of the storm. If the latter is so, the final word of the sixth sentence, “thunder” should be changed to “lightning”. For my own personal interest, is this the way storm distance is calculated in Wales, thunder-count-lightning? I am curious because here in Texas we count seconds between the initial strike of lightning and the crash of thunder. It has worked well all my life, but if the opposite works for you then, by all means, please fill me in. I would like to encourage you to do three things with your writing: 1. Avoid the obvious, i.e., “I began to think that the world wouldn’t really notice me if I was gone, except my friends and family of course.” When you ad, “… except my friends and family of course.” You’re placing an obvious in with a bold statement, thus taking away from the impact of your original thought of not being missed by the world. Also, you might remove the word “me” from the sentence, as the world cannot notice something that does not exist. 2. Steer clear of predictability at all costs. Please keep in mind that this is just my opinion, but the black cat seems a little too much, as though you are attempting to cover all the bases in your description. Instead of a black cat, you might try a boy from a nearby village, holding out in the rain in hopes of some acknowledgement from you and how you pity him because it would never work out between the two of you for whatever reason. 3. Rework your wording until you feel it says absolutely everything you wish in the most comprehensive and rhythmic way possible. Fourth paragraph, second sentence, “There was nobody about in cars driving along the main road outside my house like there normally were.” Again, this is my opinion only, but I would take the sentence that begins this paragraph, flip it and let it bleed into the one that follows, i.e., “Except for the rain, it was deathly still outside, not one car had passed along the normally busy road just outside my window.” My favorite part of this piece was your decision “…to tell everyone that I loved them more often in case I didn’t get a chance again.” To me this shows that you are one who can learn from the teachings of nature and that you were able to let something positive come into your life from something so overpowering as a “particularly vicious storm.” I see great promise in your work because, from this particular piece, you have written for your own satisfaction, as if your heart cries out to be heard, even if only heard by you. If this is so then continue down this path and fear not what others may say about your work. Allow necessity to be the inspiration for that which you write and your work will ultimately purify itself. Growth is a process that we cannot avoid; therefore we must embrace and nurture it. I hope that this has been of some help to you. Keep writing and know that my best wishes are with you. " -- STORM, TEXAS, USA.

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2002 C G L Davies
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
June 2002
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2044
 

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