She swings back and forth with a gleeful grin on her face, challenging herself with each swoop to reach a little higher, a little further, her pink-painted pointed toes cramping from the strain. She loves the bright, fresh days of spring; the crocuses, followed by the daffodils and the unfurling of lime-green leaves on trees.
Leaning back, curling legs underneath, tightening her grip on the hemp rope and opening her eyes wide she looks up into the boughs of the tree where the cherry blossom buds are bursting their seams, threatening to bloom at any moment.
Faster and higher, her small body stretched taut and almost vertical with calloused hands clinging on tightly. She prays she can hold on as every muscle in her body strains until it tingles. Her face is scrunched up in effort and her lips pursed in concentration as she wills herself higher. Flying backwards again, on the downwards arc, the loose ends of her black hair skim across the dry earth kicking up dust and sand.
She reaches the zenith, adjusts her weight and looks out across the clearing for a split second, the inescapable grasp of gravity momentarily forgotten. Nodding to herself, gravity and the tree that holds her weight, she begins the final descent, hurtling towards the ground with her body flat and pointed like a blade of grass, her toes curling as she realises just how close her head is to the ground.
The last, fast ascent; the key is in the timing, the angle, the perfect transition of momentum. From upwards to outwards in the split of a second she flings herself from the swing. With the alacrity and gracefulness of a snake, with the flick of her wrist and the uncoiling of her spine like a broken spring she begins her flight across the clearing. For a moment she shuts her eyes, feeling the resistance of the air and the warmth of the sun. For a blissful moment all she can hear is the rush of wind and the tweeting of sparrows.
With her eyes closed she couldn’t have noticed the out of place shadow or the sibilant sussuration of quick movement at the edge of the clearing.
Opening her eyes again she gathers her bearings, now aware that she will have to roll as she lands. Legs brace and then bend as she hits the ground with a graceful thud, damp grass tickling her arms as they cover her head. She rolls two times before stopping, blinking and reorienting herself. Looking down she smiles at a beautiful, dual-tone daffodil that she narrowly avoided crushing.
A scream explodes like a shot, startling birds from trees, rabbits into holes and transfixing the small girl sitting on the grass. She turns her head towards the kitchen window to see her mother fall to the ground. Her whole body tenses like an animal, ready to fight. But everything goes black. “Hello, Emily.” A rasped voice very close to her ear, rough hands encircle her waist and smother her mouth. She hadn’t heard the heavy footfalls sneak up behind her but she hears the smooth, sickening swish of metal against metal. She feels a knife piercing the soft skin of her back.
“Oh, don’t cry.”
Abi
Jun 8, 2009
Ok, “threatening” does work. I changed my mind. I see what you were trying to do with the suggestion of menace early on. I also much prefer the change in tense and the exposition of the name in the last bit as opposed to right at the start. Genius idea that.
On the whole it builds, reveals and resolves (as much as it can in the short passage) very well.
I will take a break and read it again later.
A x
sebastian
Jun 8, 2009
Oh I am so glad! I’ll rehash it at some stage when I turn it into a full short story and I swear I’ll include ‘metronomic’ somewhere in the new opening.
’twas a totally genius idea, moving her name further down *tips his hat*
Helen
Jun 8, 2009
wow, I was not expecting that! Good work!
sebastian
Jun 8, 2009
Ah, but it’s the NEXT bit that’ll really pique your interest.
Part of me really wishes I’d left in one sentence which I took out at the LAST moment, but… I wanted to REALLY build up the mystery.
Let’s just say… Emily recognises the voice.
Sarah
Jun 8, 2009
oh no! it was so sweet at first… way to go, sebs. now I’m all freaked out. better post the rest soon.
sebastian
Jun 8, 2009
I’m just getting into character to write the second bit.
My mother’s downstairs with a burlap sack tied over her head and my beard (as you can see in the photo from the weekend) is looking fairly imposing.
*cracks knuckles*
cari
Jun 8, 2009
fantastic writing. i can’t wait to read more.
Jaime @ Fast Times
Jun 8, 2009
The imagery is astounding. I’m all ‘yay, I love swinging’ and ‘I can almost feel it!’ and then wow. I can tell this is going to be good.
Eric
Jun 8, 2009
You threw in “sibilant sussuration” just for me, didn’t you? Neither closed eyes nor open ones will let you hear said sussurusing, by the way.
The amount of detail you have here is pretty well perfect, but I think you emphasize it too much with phrases like “sickening swish of metal against metal.” Is that really sickening? You’d never be able to sharpen a carving knife before dinner.
sebastian
Jun 8, 2009
You can hear a sussuration! It’s the sound of grass swaying in the wind, at least as it was taught me — it’s one of those onomatopoeia words, right? So it IS a sound…
I actually started with that phrase and worked backwards… Just kidding. Ish.
Agree, the alliteration is a bit over the top in places, but I was trying to capture the girl’s thoughts with that particular line about the knife, rather than just saying ‘she felt sick’, which would’ve been weak?
Thanks, Jaime
Eric
Jun 8, 2009
No, you can hear sussurations, sure. But you can’t hear them with eyes. Look at your sentence again.
sebastian
Jun 8, 2009
Ah, yes, that sentence obviously begun with her not seeing the shadow, and then grew organically from there — as wanton alliteration does… *grin*
I could alter it a little to include ‘heard’, but it ruins the flow a bit — the sussuration is more of a secondary action to the moving shadow.
Melissa
Jun 9, 2009
Well that was enticing…. and of COURSE she knows the voice. It was obvious to my perspective.
Melissa
Jun 9, 2009
Aha, tired-me figured out why: He knows her name!
sebastian
Jun 9, 2009
Nothing gets past you!
Now to make the second bit as good as the first…
floreta
Jun 12, 2009
you’re a good writer. i think you’re improving !??
i love how your stories turn so suddenly!