Deviation Actions
Literature Text
He steps outside, the cold air wrapping itself around him... it ensnares him and he catches his breath. Seeping through the layers of warmth the icy hand grips him down to the bone. It's not quite dark out, the clouds cover the city. It's very own blanket blocking out the sun. Not one shadow crosses his path, as if they had disappeared to their own world, away from the chaos of our own.
He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. Warmth. They would not be there long as he fumbled for what he wanted. A lighter. A pack of smokes. One smoke slid smoothly out the almost empty box just as smoothly as the box slid back into the pocket.
Dry lips pucker for the nicotine kiss. A spark. The flame erupts and that familiar red glow appears before him. Pulling the smoke deep into his lungs, that first drag satisfying feeling as it filled him, and the slow release as the lungs pushed out the grey plumes.
They danced before him as he opened his eyes. Hypnotically it played back and forth in the breeze. One hand in the pocket, the other clutching onto the small stick. Smell of tobacco on stained fingers.
The last of the plume disappearing into the air, becoming lost amongst the invisible poison of the city. A great stretch arose from him; he twisted and turned himself as his joints became warm within him.
He lifted the instrument of his destruction back to his lips, another taste of the soothing chemical drug. Chest lifting to bring the death into himself. The deep thoughts swirling in his brain as the smoke whirled around his being. Thoughts of life, of death and all that lies between enthralled the mind. The cigarette became short, nearing the end of its own life. As he pondered of what it would be like when he neared the end of his own.
Tap
Tap
Drag
It was over.
A quick flick as he turned back. The subtle heat as he stepped into the doorway. Temperature changing as quickly as the thoughts ran away from his mind. And all that remained was the subtle aroma of the smoke... slowly fading but forever distinct. Just as the thoughts never truly go away, but always linger.
Fallen
Detriment and denial
Never Forgotten
Just my thoughts playing around while taking a smoke outside.
In all honesty. It means nothing. But... I would love an honest Critique of this one, since it is something new and I just want to know if I should pursue it and hone it or if its just not all that great.
Overall Vision Originality
Technique
ImpactThe story is simple and yet it has a really deep meaning in it, as if it were a rose, slowly blooming until it gives the beauty they are supposed to give. I would describe your story like a rose, it starts silently, normal, and as it nears the end of it, the message becomes clearer. The silence that fills the air during the story can be felt and has a big impact on the way you read it, as if it were a prey and you were the hunter. The sentences may be short but they still give it a thought and a feeling.
I felt a big vision on your part, the way to give a message without making it 100% obvious. It gives an air of originality and serenity. How death can be so peaceful, so fast. It is quite a marvelous story, I loved it. Where you repeat words, it gets slightly confusing which made me read it about twice or more times, and it starts a little boring, but gets exciting towards the end. Cigarettes don´t give me much of an impression, specially since I have almost no empathy towards people that smoke, but your story reached towards me, trying to grasp my hand and pull me, hypnotizing my eyes. Thank you very much for the story and keep it up.