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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

A Few Minutes of Silence


Xanthus

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Hi all, here's the first story I've posted in many blue-moons. It was written about a month ago roughly between 4am and 6am when I couldn't sleep. It might be finished, or might be a work in progress. I haven't decided yet. This story is almost completely dialogue driven, which isn't my usual style, but I think it works. I look forward to hearing what you all think, and please, don't pull any critical punches. BTW, anybody know how to represent a [tab] to start a paragraph in this messageboard system? I'm writing it in here with tabs, but it doesn't seem to recognise them in the final post. Oh well, that's a minor thing.

 

The edit I made a few hours after posting was to correct some grammatical issues which jumped out at me from the last two paragraphs.

 

It's called "A Few Minutes of Silence".

 

 

 

 

“Come up here, I'd like to talk to you,” the girl called from her balcony.

“In a while.”

“What are you doing down there anyway?”

“Thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Lots of things.”

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now. You aren't still thinking about yesterday, are you?”

“No, I'm thinking about other things.”

“Well, what are you thinking about?”

“The trees.”

“Which trees?”

The man on the beach opened his eyes, raised his right hand and pointed across the bay. “Those trees. They're beautiful, aren't they?” He closed his eyes again and leaned back against his rock.

The sound of a door swinging to a close floated softly down to the man on the beach.

 

* * * * *

 

A few minutes later, the girl called again, “Are you still thinking about the trees?”

“Yes, the trees.”

“Well, what about them?”

“What do you mean, what about them?”

“You've been thinking all this time about trees. Haven't you figured anything out about them yet?”

“I haven't been thinking about trees the entire time.”

“Well, what have you been thinking about then?”

“Lots of things.”

“You were thinking about yesterday again, weren't you?”

“No, other things.”

“Like what?”

“Like how nice and peacefully quiet it is out here.”

For several seconds a peaceful quiet settled over the bay like a heavy wool blanket.

“Come back in, please?”

“I'll be up soon.”

Echoing down to the rocks came the wooden sound of a door pulled shut.

 

* * * * *

 

The silence was again broken a short time after.

“Please come in?”

“Please let me think.”

“All you want to do lately is lay on the beach and think. You leave me with nothing to do but sit up here all by my self, and it's driving me crazy. I want to talk to you.”

“We can talk in a few minutes.”

“When?”

“When I'm done thinking.”

“When will that be?”

“As soon as I have enough peace and quiet to finish.”

“Come in. There will be plenty of time to think later.”

“Not yet.”

“You can think inside if you want. Just come up here with me?”

“I need peace and quiet to think.”

“I won't say a word. Just let me sit next to you?”

“It isn't quiet in there. The fire crackles.”

“I'm asking you to come in.”

“I'm asking you to let me think.”

“Please be reasonable.”

“Is it not reasonable to think when I have issues demanding thought?”

“Like the trees?”

“Yes, and other things.”

“Like yesterday?”

“No, that's in the past.”

“Yeah right.”

“Yesterday is in the past, my thoughts are in the present, and this conversation could just as easily be in the future.”

“Look, I want you to come back up here. Will you do that for me?”

“Of course I will, in a few minutes.”

“Come up now.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“For me?”

“In a few minutes.”

“Fine.”

 

* * * * *

 

For the next half hour, the beautiful silence was broken only once by a brief and barely heard sound. It was the sound of a penny dropped carelessly to the ground. It was not the type of sound which would disturb the man on the beach, except to turn his thoughts briefly to curiosity before they resumed wandering. Satisfied with his half hour of quiet, he opened his eyes.

 

“I'm finished. I'll be right up. We can talk now.”

No answer came in reply.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

 

The man turned his gaze from the trees across the bay, and looked back up towards his house. The front door was wide open. His thoughts raced back to the sound which had briefly broken the silence. He remembered how curious it had made him; curious, but not curious enough to distract him from other thoughts. Why was the door open? It was cold outside by the ocean and warm with the fire inside. She wouldn't leave the door open, would she? What was that sound anyway? He ran through all the possibilities in his mind. The church bell? No, it wasn't dinner time, not a Sunday, and not a holiday. Could it have been a sound from inside the house? No, it was a small sound. It didn't have enough weight to pass through solid walls. Maybe the sound was made by an animal? But how could an animal have made such a metallic sound? Gulls like shiny objects. Maybe a seagull picked something up and dropped it onto the rocky beach? A nail? There was a new house being built across the bay. Yes, that must be it. Something small and metal had been dropped onto the beach by a seagull. The whole story seemed unlikely, but what else would drop something metal onto the beach?

 

Suddenly, there was a change in the expression painted across the face of the man on the beach. It was the look of a man who had just learned his mother was dead after years suffering from a painful disease. It was the look of a man realising he wouldn't be able to keep up with his debts, after having been fired from a job he hated. It was a look imbued with a sense of relief, but drowned in a sea of grief and fear. It was the look of a man who no longer believed his story of a seagull. There was another explanation for the sound.

Edited by Xanthus
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It is finished, erm, content wise anyway. If it was not yet finished, it would be tweaked but not extended. There are hints throughout the story, and I don't think they're buried tooooo deeply, but maybe that's a fair criticism. What does everyone think? Is the subtext a little too buried for tastes around here?

 

Thanks for the reply.

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It is finished, erm, content wise anyway. If it was not yet finished, it would be tweaked but not extended. There are hints throughout the story, and I don't think they're buried tooooo deeply, but maybe that's a fair criticism. What does everyone think? Is the subtext a little too buried for tastes around here?

 

Thanks for the reply.

Nice story. Enjoyed it quite a lot. A capsule of the whole +/- of having someone to spend time with/having to spend time with someone.

 

Not wild about the very last sentence, though. Seems kind of stated and obvious.

 

As for the sound... my lightbulb tells me it was a ring being tossed away?

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I enjoyed reading this as well. While I have a vague idea of what the sound might have been, I very much doubt I've picked up on any of the hints. That doesn't mean they're hidden too deep, though - I keep getting told that I wouldn't recognize a hint if it were wrapped around a brick and thrown against my forehead ;)

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