The Boy at the Lowhouse Palace

This is actually a short story that will be incorporated into a larger work. It is a fictional piece that will be part of a fantasy fiction/science fiction work.

He seemed too young. He stood in rags but wore sippus sandals, fabric sewed into soften thick straw; it was farewell tradition for the sons and daughters of farmers to be sent away with new sippus shoes. They were made with room to grow. His thin feet wobbled and slipped in them as he was brought in. He was given a blanket the same as all of us when we had first arrived, but he was lucky enough to be given a bowl with a portion of some. Which was a sign in itself. The guard didn’t leave right away. When they had first entered the room every pair of eyes turned to stare at the newcomer. It didn’t take long for most to lose interest and continue to play with cards, spoons, and continue their quiet chatter. Within the contours of the shadows, others like me kept up their observations, all for our own reasons, all of us either coming to the same conclusion or another. 

The guard loomed close, oblivious of the red target he just painted. In the din of indistinct murmurs, the guard said some reassuring words. And though most didn’t catch it, I saw the guard pull his arm away from his body where the sleeve slightly bulged, the bulge vanished into the boys blankets. For the rest who had seen the exchange slightly shifted in their postures, pretending by either looking away or seeming bored that they hadn’t discovered the guard’s incentive kindness. The boy was still naïve: never trust a guard who gives you food. He’ll be expecting a trade soon. My stomach clenched and the bulge in the blanket took on the shape of fresh bread and an apple half. The guard vanished back to his post, locking the cell gate to the holepen, and I called out quickly.

 “Hey.” The boy was still in a trance looking down at the contents of his bowl. “That is to eat.” I nodded towards his bowl. “And if you continue to block the doorway the guards won’t like it.” I told him. He snapped his head up, looking in my direction.  The boy had a slight tan and his dark, ear-length waves parted, unveiling filthy cherub cheeks. From where I sat the torch lighting set transparent yellow-green eyes aglow. In his immobile bearing the boy pressed and clutched his bundle into his stomach.

His eyes studied me and before I could invite him to come closer or bring myself closer to him the guard came back with the portly lowhouse master yelling at his neck.  Everyone turned to watch the commotion. “You stupid fool! Did I tell you to bring him to the holepen?” The guard fumbled with the keys, and rushed the gate open. “Grab him and put him up in a room. Have him bathed and burn those rags.” The guard quickly grabbed the boy and led him far away from us, to another wing of the Lowhouse Palace.

 

 

Author's Note

Critique away.

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

I am very intrigued and hope you will post more. So far I haven't found anything major that doesn't set well with me. There are a few stray problems with specific wording, and I would be happy to share my feedback if that's the type of feedback you'd like. (Some people don't like persnickety little word choice feedback.)

I look forward to seeing more.

[SweetNutmeg]

So for a persnickety dissection, here goes

"watchful staring" feels redundant to me.

In "where there was a slight bulged in the sleeve" is confusing... either the sleeve bulged, or it has a bulge.

"the guard’s incentive kindness." I am not sure what you are trying to say here.

These were the only things that stood out for me. Your writing evokes a mood and sense of place very well, and gives us insight into the narrator's personality.

[June Reynard]

Thanks. I like to work on a piece until it's perfect and because I've been working on it for a few days straight I can't point out the errors anymore. I appreciate your feedback.

[M.R Steiner]

anything I can say is strictly amateur in opinion, so I can only give you my thoughts on the reading experience. so take it with a grain of salt :)

your premise and setting, while dark and depressing was very vividly described. you have a much better sense of wordplay than me, from my perspective the sentences transferred wonderfully from your main characters perspective. in regards to the plot, I instantly gained a sense of how the world was and the terrible situation that your characters and narrator was in.

my only real problem is maybe some of the dialogue seems a little wooden, the modifiers etc are all great but that is just my opinion and like I said, I am definitely an amateur.

I would love your opinion on a very short chapter I've been trying to put together, I feel I could learn from your opinion? :)

http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/couincilmanZero/1837324/

[June Reynard]

Dialogue is a working progress for me. Sometimes I'm good at it and sometimes it is what it is. Thanks for your comment. I'll play with this piece some more. And I look forward to reading some of yours.