by
Johnathon Nessler
"Why do I see things that way? Why is it if I see something that is obviously right you persist in trying to prove me wrong?" She noticed herself pleading for the answer now. "You always did think you were clever. Too clever for anything to ever harm you. "By the way," she said, noticing she left him no time to respond. It had been a very long time since she had allowed him time to respond. "Did you remember to clip your nails? You have always been forgetful of doing so. Tears filled her eyes as she went on. "Sometimes I still dream about us. Did you know that? I don't think about the present, though. Today isn't something I would ever want to think of, even if in a dream." Her tears began to flow freely, and she wondered if he noticed. "You know, I have heard that people can die while dreaming. That is, if they dream of falling from a cliff, and they hit the ground their mind gives up hope on life." Her mind shuttered at the ideas she was about to put into words. "Well, imagine this, if just for a moment; my most glorious dream was the flight to the top of that cliff." A smile cracked her sadness for a moment, before: "I made that same flight up every single time I closed my eyes to sleep. I dreamed of that flight until I knew it by heart; until I had flown it a million times over." Her eyes sank into darkness as she went on. "I have given up hope on the thought of that flight now. I haven't given up like most people give up the hope of ever rich, or living forever, but instead I have given what few people give. I gave until I couldn't give anymore. I gave so much that, now, the fall is the happiest of my dreams. So now you know why I can't dream of today. It would be as if I hit the bottom as I started dreaming. My mind would finally realize how dead I already am. The woman stood there, as though she was waiting for something. "Nothing to say for yourself? Then once again I will leave here angry. Angry at you, and everything you have done to me." Tears poured out of her eyes. She seemed to be begging. "All you need to do is ask me to stop being angry. I don't want to feel like this anymore. Hatred filled the woman's voice. Not real hatred, but at least the mask of hatred. "I don't love you anymore, you know. I can't lie to you about never loving you, because you know that I did. But what do you know now? Nothing. You know nothing of the love I have for you. I don't need to lie anymore. You have made me so I can't even control my own emotions. I am tired of this control you have. I'll be able to change my love to hate one day, but until then, I will see you tomorrow, my one true love." Oliver watched the young lady set her roses near the tombstone, and watched her walk away. He noticed a sadness about her, and an unexplainable darkness in her movements. He didn't wonder why she was sad, or why there seemed to be a darkness to her, after he heard her speak to her lost love, but he did notice. As Oliver made his short walk home he thought of his own life. Everything seemed clearer somehow. He noticed for the first time that a light seemed to be shining on everything he knew, a light that had always been there, but one he had never thought to notice. Oliver found himself hoping that the light would never leave.
Comments A Need For Light is a good title as Oliver`s need is fulfilled. I suggest, Jonathon, that you start your story with "Oliver watched the young lady set her roses near the tombstone and walk away." Then ask the questions: Why was she sad? and so on. You need to revise the number of times you have repeated a word, e.g. noticed(3) notice(2) noticing(1). Don`t give up! Dorothy Spry I wish Oliver had been introduced earlier than he has in this story. I'm left a little confused over the third paragraph from the end - I feel there is contradiction here. Otherwise the story is very readable and I liked it. John Williams
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