Wednesday, December 26, 2007

After Many Pauses

This is an attempt to sketch a mood or event, a feeling without the constraint of words. I wanted to write of silence, about silence.

And then, after many harsh words, many cigarettes and many pauses, he rose and turning his back on her, opened the window. He leant out, his elbows resting on the ledge. It was night but not dark. The moon hung in the sky, distant in a distant sky. The stars were scattered all around, bright confetti. The sky was like carbon paper, blue-black, an abstract sky. He felt his own breathing and himself being slowly stretched against the sky. And then quite suddenly, he felt all his previous rage dissipate, leave him slowly. It seemed as if he was noticing the sky for the first time. He realized the impotence of his anger and the inconsequential failure of his misplaced love. He wanted to be out of himself, besides himself, detached. He didn't feel anything anymore. He wanted to join the stars, in silence. He wanted to break free from words. And then he heard her rise and the flourish of finality in her Bye but he did not turn to see her. He heard her footfalls down the stairs and the gentle sound of the shutting door. He felt peaceful and almost happy. He did not even feel the need to light another cigarette.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

what i think is you should write a novel. i dont say this halfheartedly, i'd just love to read some very long text by you. i never can judge short texts or judge anyway, so i just say this. i think you have a longrun-temperament.

Kubla Khan said...

Oh...a novel! you are so kind.....first I must buy a castle in scotland........

billoo said...

Agree with Antonia. Good flow to your writing...despite the "many pauses"!

Hope you give it serious consideration.

salaams,

b.

swiss said...

it's odd that you should be trying to sketch a mood yet be so prescriptive. All the sentences bar four start with he or and. plus the sentence structures are all very similar. could be style but i thought it jarred. nor did it seem to me to fulfil your stated task to describe a mood, but rather described a character.

if it was me, i'd rewrite it and try to do it without personal pronouns and make it achronological, se where it takes you

Kubla Khan said...

There cannot be any perfection, hence this. but the mood is inside the character, it changes, from the inside....slowly, then suddenly.
he might want to call her later.....who knows what these things are?

Kubla Khan said...

There cannot be any perfection, hence this. but the mood is inside the character, it changes, from the inside....slowly, then suddenly.
he might want to call her later.....who knows what these things are?

swiss said...

that's what i mean. it's not 'a' mood, it's 'his' mood, possessive and linear
i'm not even going to engage with the perfection thing. that's just tooooo fraught! lol

Marta said...

Anyway, believe it or not, I identified with 'him' up to the point I thought, for a instant, that Kubla could be some of my close friends undercover and know what has happened to me just the other day ;)