The Red Pitchfork

A college assignemnt. I needed to pick my best or worst experience with one of the 5 senses. I was the only person to recieve an A on this, and it's a piece I am extremely proud of.

This miserable fall day could have never prepared my eyes for the beauty that was to come only hours later. For once, the Manhattan air was not dominated by taxi horns, and the sound of corporate neck ties stepping their way through the city streets and sidewalks, but instead, by the sound of rain droplets plunging from the sky and on to the pavement. However, nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. I made my 19 block walk from Penn Station to Roseland Ballroom, and there she was waiting for me. Only literally in my dreams. Living, breathing, walking, talking beauty, the most vivid of its kind, standing not ten feet away from me. She is clearly out of my league. Infact, I can't imagine that she is in anyones league.

 

I could not take my eyes off of her. Her lips. Jesus Christ those lips that she had. Full lips that fit her face quite nicely that were painted in a crimson and shined to perfection which easily stood out on her smooth, powdery skin. A silver hoop hugged the right side of her bottom lip that I caught her tongue playing with on several glances that I took the liberty of taking. A small and pointy nose sat in the center of her face with a tiny, fake diamond stud going through her left nostril. She had the bluest eyes that would camouflage in a clear July sky. Wrapped around her eyes was a thick black layer of eye shadow and mascara which dripped down her cheeks from the tearing sky. And it was at this point that I realized, Atreyu was wrong. There IS beauty in bleeding mascara. She chose not to take advantage of the hood that was attached to her grey hoodie, and let her silky and straight jet black hair mosh through the wind. Her hair seemed to flail through the air and into her face in slow motion, which she would constantly clear away from her eyes with her small, pale, black nail polish painted fingers.

 

This specimen could not have been more than 5 feet, 3 inches tall. She had small breasts that were perfectly proportionate to her body. She was short and skinny, which made her tall, black and white boots that probably contained enough lace to lasso the homeless guy across the street that was screaming what seemed like a mix between Gibberish and Japanese, or some other language that I will never learn...or maybe it was perfect English but I just chose not to pay attention, stand out as one of her many visible bold features. She stood talking to her two girlfriends for the next hour until the venue had opened, and I am confident that if I was asked to give a detailed description of either of them to police, it would extend to them both being female, and end right then and there.

 

It was finally time to walk into the venue. I had my friends ticket that I was waiting for, and lucky for me, that son of a b***h was late, and I was forced to let people that were behind me go inside before I could. For whatever reason, I chose to never bring this chick up to him even though it had consumed me for the entire night. I watched as the only thing that has ever literally taken my breath away turned her back on me and walk into the distance. It wasn't until seconds before the last time I would ever lay my eyes on her that I noticed the red pitchfork tattoo on the back of her right leg. Just another unique feature that stood out to me in case our paths were meant to cross again that night, or any night. Instead of enjoying the show, I spent a majority of it with my eyes wandering across this orgy of thousands, looking for the girl with the pierced face and black hair. However, she was nowhere to be seen. While it was a disappointment, her figure is forever branded in my mind until the day that our four blue eyes become tangled from a close distance, or until I am the only person to notice an illuminating red pitchfork on the back of someones right leg.

 

T. Val

Author's Note

Please rate, and give any feedback. I hope this piece was enjoyed by all of you.

Reviews

[Hester Vane]

Great story. Very vivid imagery which really helped convey the feelings if facsination with red pitchfork girl. Well written and constructed which made it very easy to read. I look forward to reading more of your work.

[T. Val]

Thanks so much Hester.

[redflutterby]

Very good story and great imagery. Just bear in mind the old rule of "less is more". Long sentences are fine but make sure to read them aloud. If it sounds forced or lacks rhythm then condense it. Also run on sentences are the bane teachers and editors. The part about the boots and homeless guy is ingenious but really needs to be restructured grammatically.

[T. Val]

Thanks for reading.

[JR Darewood]

Sounds like love at first sight! I love it when that happens, you get this floating feeling...

I liked that you even found her imperfections (like the bleeding mascara) to be endearing, and that you described her piercings and black nail polish (signs of a subculture, but not your typical markers of beauty) with reverence. I also like that you ended it having not spoken to her but searching for her (because that's what always happens when we get our breath taken away from us first sight), and searching for the pitchfork tattoo was a nice touch.

I might have changed a couple of things with the first and last paragraphs (I would have cut out the "just another unique feature that stood out to me and started a new paragraph w/ "instead of enjoying the show" and I while the first sentence is a great hook, i feel like it could be rephrase to blend more easily with the rest of the paragraph), but those are just small things that popped up to me as I was reading, and might just be a matter of opinion (I can't re-read anything I write w/o changing anything) as opposed to good advice. Thanks for the read request! I enjoyed remembering what this sensation feels like.

[T. Val]

Thank you so much for taking the time. I'm glad you enjoyed this.

[Sheik]

You seem too much into fashion, making you too picky. This gives off a depressing feeling. A wonder if so many guys are like this. Favoring so much detail. Most people I see, I never approach, so the story is familiar. The woman you're describing sounds cool.

[T. Val]

Not obsessed with fashion, I just aim to paint a picture for the reader. Thanks so much for reading.

[Rebecca Conway]

Love the details, "Jesus Christ those lips that she had" is a brilliant line, gritty and frustrated and everything that the character would be in this situation. Not sure about the word choice of 'specimen'...sounds a little off...but I'm sure that just my feminist side reading into it too much. Like how you've kept the story quite concise yet the descriptions vivid, its very true to the situation of a fleeting encounter. Thanks for sharing :)

[T. Val]

Thanks so much for reading.

[Holly Mason]

I will from now on be searching for her for you
this is a very beautiful piece of writing I can see as to where you received an A
vivid imagery through out so much detail I was walking beside you in my mind
title just makes a reader wonder-what is this about?
thank you for sharing

[T. Val]

Thank you so much for reading. And thanks for the kind words.

[M]

Gorgeous imagery. I adored this piece from beginning to end. Great work :)

[T. Val]

Thank you so much. I'm glad you enjoyed this.

[Wild Willow Blue]

Very well written. Vivid imagery. Wonderfully gripping.

[T. Val]

Thanks you so much.

[Wild Willow Blue]

You're very welcome. I loved it.

[Lonely Islander]

The description was definitely beautiful. It gave such a clear image of the girl you were talking about. Just an amazing piece. Good jon:-):-):-D.

[T. Val]

Thanks so much for reading :)

[Caitlin Lea]

Yes, this has remarkably good details. It doesn't tend toward cliche, which is nice, but it offers plenty to form images in my mind. Quite a good little story!

[T. Val]

Thank you for the kind words Caitlin.