/lit/ - Literature

He calculated a moment. “Outlook not so good,” he replied.

Wyatt remembered her mom showing him a picture of them both taking a bath together at age three. He remembered long walks on the beach, drinking from flasks and pushing each other in the freezing water on Valentines day, almost catching hypothermia.

“What? What do you mean?”

On his back sat messy passionate engravements disappearing. She didn’t cut her nails a month ago when they made love and it looked like he shirtlessly climbed a barb-wired fence.

“Concentrate and ask again,” he rotely typed in reply.

”Ok what are u talking about. I just want to know that well be okay in the future.”

In middle school they joked about sex once they were sexually mature. They pointed out each others faults and expressed contempt for one another wherever possible.

They went to prom together while dating separate people in grade 12.

“Reply hazy, try again “

Wyatts heart sunk like a stone into the sea and he took the battery out of his phone.

Wyatt thought over the last twelve months with such a particular brand of nostalgia that a fatigue was roused in him where his body felt a deep sleep would be the most diplomatic move for emotional preservation. His phone vibrating against his thigh pulled him deeper into his flu of two weeks.

“I’m sorry, it’s just not working.”

He thought of how to respond and incurred terrific, painful memories without even trying. Wyatt remembered the time she spilled coffee on his lap and burned his thighs. They talked about their families they both hated. He stared at the waitress’ ass in Earls that night and she called him a slag. He told her she was watching too many British shows. It was the first night they kissed.

“It is decidedly so,” Wyatt texted back.

Almost immediately his screen went white and shook for receiving.

“Ohhhh i’m so glad were mutual,” the message read.

Last October after a two week split they made out on a bench outside Barnes and Noble in two degree weather. The tepid glow of the high-hanging heat lamp was too scant to provide comfort even for the mosquitoes leftover from summer. “You’re lips are almost blue. Disgusting,” she blurted out.

“Yours would be too if you weren’t wearing that whorish red lipstick.”

His phone buzzed again. Two fingers skating across the screen changed the display: “We’ve been best friends since I can think of and I still want to be, i know i do and i know you do too. i still love you. i think we both just need // part two // a bit of time”

and thats the story.

Story writers suck. All modern writers are hacks.


Genital warts.

>micro fiction
Isnt that just a short story?

It's not the worst thing I've read. The narrative is mediocre.

>Wyatt thought over the last twelve months with such a particular brand of nostalgia that a fatigue was roused in him where his body felt a deep sleep would be the most diplomatic move for emotional preservation.

For the first seventeen words it looked like you had something to say, but then the sentence just died out. Either describe the nostalgia or say he wanted to sleep. You could also reword it.

>shook for receiving

Doesn't really work.

I'd go on but meh. It's a nice concept though.

Well, it's not bad. The Magic 8 Ball responses are nice, and lift this away from being just more bullshit relationship tripe.

Your first sentence is way too fucking long, though. It's stupidly long. You need to revise that. The whole piece should be edited, of course. You have some grammatical mistakes and some shitty phrasing ("he rotely typed in reply"), etc. But you don't have a bad foundation here.

Also, dat rhyme at the end, I see it. Good job so far. Keep at it.

I think I will also try my hand at micro fiction.

There once were a group of magical girls that fought crime. Everyone SHOULD have liked them because they were generally kind, smart, and did their work for free, but the plain fact was that everybody hated them. They got together one day and discussed it. After many hours they finally concluded that nobody liked them because of the gigantic, free swinging cock that each of them had. This should have appealed to some of the population, but there was the additional problem of their cocks all shooting deadliest lightning every time they became hard. Then a meteor struck their secret hideout with the force of an atomic bomb and they all died.

The End.

>>2176494
>>2176491

Agreed. That first sentence is a doozey. Long sentences can be great, of course, but that one meanders aimlessly. Cut that sentence right down. It's an obstacle to the reader.

>His phone vibrating against his thigh pulled him deeper into his flu of two weeks

Again, awkward, I think, particularly the last part.

>He thought of how to respond

I feel like you skipped a mental process there. I don't expect you to write something like 'He was stunned and his eyes went wide as he struggled with the news' or anything like that. Just, y'know, follow the process, hint at emotions and stuff. Also, you don't make it clear it's a text message until well after he recieves the message, so it's jarring when you say later 'he texted back'.

Overall, not bad, needs a lot of work. This shit isn't as easy as it looks though, so props for trying. Keep it up. Hope my opinions are useful to you.

you need to have conflict that gets in the way of the goal at the final sentence. redo it. C-

>>2176520
>you need to have conflict

lol classicism

>>2176522
Please refer to the amateur storyboard.
<------

>>2176529

lol classical story structure

thanks for the responses.
>lift this away from being just more bullshit relationship tripe
I really do want to do this but how would I?

>>2176557

Good question. I have no idea, but I'll bump it because the answer may help me too.

>>2176557
We can't tell you how. This is one of these movie moments where you have to figure things out yourself.

>>2176580

I think the movie I'm in is probably one of those depressing ones where the hero never fully realises his potential and goes to sleep alone and unsatisfied ;_;

>>2176585
Stop feeling sorry for yourself in public.

Go write.

>>2176589

Okay. When Jack tells me to do something, I do it.

tits for more replies