From my Hill

I can't seem to get back into story writing. It feels like my imagination has died...

             From my hill, I watch as the gray skies twist off into a great knot, leaving but a giant swirl of the once somber sky as nothing but a dot amidst the item-less white that now spans all around me. I look down and see the flower fields that span the bottom of my hill begin to wither, their white and yellow pedals dying, swept off in a final west wind that does not allow any real value; it stops, and the flowers dissapear.

            The world is ending.

            I turn back toward my home, and already the erosion has begun. A once beautiful ranch with milky white walls and shiny wooden floors appears now as nothing more than a shanty house, it’s wall’s crumbling, roof caving. I can see my things, my precious, secret things, now openly available for the cruel world to snicker and laugh at.

            I feel more shame than fear as the world continues to end.

            There is nothing I can do but move, but to where? I turn away from my house and begin to walk down my hill. I know, feel, everything behind me vanish and fade into the void of that redundant white, that shade of all things without value. I know that with every step forward I abandon another piece, another organ. But I can’t stop, not now.

            I hope it is purgatory, and not the bottom of the well. Not yet.

            As I step through my now colorless flower field, I look down for a moment, in search of a stem. I see none and look up, only to find myself face-to-face with the void. I stand upon the final rectangle of dead grass, just enough to stand on. I cannot turn back, and am scared to turn my head aside.

 

            My world has ended very long ago, but I have not stepped off this final foothold yet. My legs are so tired, and I am very hungry.

            I almost look forward to the day I faint.

            Almost.

Reviews

[Vincent Weathers]

i don't think you should give up. Rather because you feel something emerge from your mind, at least you know that you have something to work with. I cannot quite say that the person before me is being entirely truthful. You already know that what comes out is not 'what you want' and is not something that 'everyone yearns for'. Instead of putting yourself in the position of seeing your shortfalls as opportunities, you allow yourself to think upon them as fjords that have no ends. Don't allow your feelings sweep your confidence under the rug. You have something that some other people do not have, and that is persistence. I would know or I would understand, if your previous messages were true, that quality is always an issue that we deal with. But enough of the pep talk, I want to show what shortcomings that I think I see that you don't see.

First of all, you state that you do not edit these stories. So really, all you do is free-write something and post. Is that right? There's more to the writing process than just the drafting. It's easy to think that when you produce something, maybe a half page or even ten pages that the results will be disappointing. There will be that voice in your head saying that what you written sucks a*s and really should go down the drain. Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever your thoughts are at that moment, you might want to write them down so that you remember your first impression. Understand it. Does Stephen King let others read his work in progresses and free-writes? Hell no. He does, however, seek his 'intended reader' to judge his work, which is his wife. There is no insurance that ideas would appear during a free-write or a first draft. If there isn't, keep it and try again. Eventually something will appear from the gunk. In any case that you have an idea to work with, whether you hear the voice that tells you that idea so-and-so smells so bad, try it anyway. Discouragement will always be there. Besides, bad ideas can always lead to better ideas--AND NO, no nooses, cyanide, or berettas involved.
Find what strengths you know in yourself and focus upon those. Everyone has weaknesses and I think that spending your time wallowing over your shortcomings really short changes what good you may still have left.


Now, your story... In general, I think it would make more sense if you made your sentences more simple in the beginning. I don't think there is too much wrong with the story except that its very general and does not give much to the reader.
Who is this person?
Why is everything in ruins?
Why is everything so colorless?

I think you can make a great story from this. You just need to believe in yourself. This piece is a picture in which to look at but to develop. It's still an unfinished canvas. Fill in those blanks. Read and develop your work. I think I have an idea where the story can go, but I want you to come to terms. If you really want me to tell you, just ask me.

[Captain Blackheart (The..]

I wouldn't say your imagination has died at all. Again I like this piece, very well written and very imaginative. I really liked the way you imagined the end of the world, very vivid and picturesque, maybe that's how it should end like a colourful dream.