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Departing

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Old 06-05-2011, 10:19 AM
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The alarm clock sounded in Eric's studio apartment yanking his head from a cluttered desk and shifting his gaze over to the ledge by the window where it sat. It was a reminder to pack, not a call to wake up. He walked over to the window, slid the alarm button to “off,” and sighed. In the corner his TV was still on, barely loud enough for anyone except himself to hear. He took one look at the photos scattered across the desk and thought briefly about the irritation of acquainting oneself with a new dark room. Minor annoyances.
“I did tell her I'd go,” he whispered to himself.
His ticket was purchased, and he had arranged for some old friends of his dad to pick him up in Portland, a two and a half hour drive from Ashford. He had stayed up all night making arrangements and piecing together his photo equipment. Once he decided to do something he was committed.
On a perfectly made bed in the farthest corner of the studio lay an unpacked green duffel bag.
Eric loaded up all the clothes he could by rolling them up like towels and stuffing them into the bag.
All the equipment he would need was in a black metal case on wheels. He flung the duffel bag over his shoulder, grabbed the case pulling it up onto its wheels, and locked the door behind him.
Eric could hear the rain falling steadily outside as the elevator doors opened on the ground floor of his apartments garage. Dim lights barely illuminated white pillars supporting a black ceiling. Silent cars sat below. He began his march down an alley of vehicles towards the shower of rain at the entrance.
Five cars in, he stopped dead at a divide and hesitatingly turned his gaze to the left.
Another row of parking spots continued toward the back wall. Cars were scattered beneath flickering lights.
In immediate view was a red high heel standing upright in the middle of the garage. The sight of it was a deafening pain blotting out his vision. Eric recalled his last fight with Cathrine. They had gone to a play, and she wore a sky blue dress with matching heels. After dinner on the way home she was yelling.
Beautiful red curls lay gently on her shoulders. Streams ran from her eyes forming rivers of black as the mascara rolled down her cheeks and clung to her neck. Her lips moved violently with matching anger in her eyes creating a hostility that could not be calmed by her elegant apparel.
He went over pages and pages of photographs in his mind while she cried and screamed in the passenger seat asking him, pleading, for a response.
“I can't feel you anymore,” she whimpered.
Then the despair she felt shined through the anger, changing her demeanor and revealing the hopelessness of the situation.
Eric failed to understand. As Cathrine climbed out of his car, she tripped twice on her dress. Running down the garage she fell, her left heel sliding perfectly off her foot as she hit the ground. That was the last time he saw her.
Eric looked away from the heel and his pain subsided. A short walk brought him to a red Jeep wrangler, and a slightly longer drive brought him to the airport. The trip would take roughly six hours.
Edward and Dorris Mocken would be waiting for him when he arrived.


Eric sat on the plane waiting for take off. “At this time we would ask you to turn off all electronic and cellular devices.” The stewardess continued her routine announcements over the PA as Eric pulled a phone from his left pocket.
“Goodbye,” rang the PA.
Cathrines last text three nights ago remained on his homepage.
Eric looked for a moment, typed a quick reply, and turned off the phone sliding it in his pocket.




“Alright Lare, you have a good night.”


“You too!” Shouted Larry as he waved to a family pulling out of the garage.
Pulling a large ring littered with keys, Larry opened a door to a small closet lined with shelves full of cleaning supplies. A loud buzz broke the cold silence of the room, and his back pocket vibrated methodically. Pushing a broom aside, he reached back and pulled out a cell from his pocket.
A Message was displayed on the screen.


“I'm sorry.”

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  #2  
Old 06-05-2011, 10:20 AM
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Please comment good bad or indifferent.
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Old 06-05-2011, 01:12 PM
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Hi Polaris, very interesting story you have here. I have to say, it held my interest, I want to know what Eric is going to do after seeing the message.

"Eric could hear the rain falling steadily outside as the elevator doors opened on the ground floor of his apartments garage. Dim lights barely illuminated white pillars supporting a black ceiling. Silent cars sat below. He began his march down an alley of vehicles towards the shower of rain at the entrance."

I really liked this bit of description, nice writing. Do try to break up the paragraphs and dialogue. It might be how you posted it on here, but it’s hard to follow in massive blocks like that, otherwise...

Keep going with it if you haven't already man!
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Old 06-05-2011, 02:13 PM
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Thanks! Yea I do have a lot more coming. This is a sequal to awake in darkness if you havent read that yet then you should. The next one will be called "Arrival". I know its kind of vague to post a sequal with a different title but those who are following will know what it is.
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Old 06-05-2011, 06:45 PM
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Thanks writting time :] coming from you that means a lot
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Old 06-06-2011, 10:55 AM
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If someone is going to comment could it be useful please?
"........................."
Gives me nothing. I would rather you bash it then I at least know what you thought.
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Old 06-06-2011, 12:06 PM
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I could barely feel anything from MC. Or.. rather, I didn't get a definitive feel for his general attitude or personality.

Regardless, I liked it quite a bit.
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Old 06-06-2011, 01:44 PM
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This is a sequal to awake in darkness. read that and you will know how he feels. I know I will lose people by giving each entry to this story a different title but thats really the way I want to do it.
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Old 06-07-2011, 05:37 PM
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I liked this quite a bit. The descriptions you used are fluid, and I like that you didn't over-do them. I enjoyed reading it and it kept my attention. The only thing I didn't like was this part:

In immediate view was a red high heel standing upright in the middle of the garage. The sight of it was a deafening pain blotting out his vision. Eric recalled his last fight with Cathrine.

I feel like perhaps you could have given him a little more emotion at that moment. There is only one sentence that describes how the shoe makes him feel, and then it jumps to his recollection. I feel like 'deafening pain blotting out his vision' is kind of a cheap description.

But, that being said, I absolutely loved the rest of it. I would like to read 'Awake in Darkness' after seeing how much skill you had with this!

Thanks for sharing!
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