xenontheblue
New Member
- Joined
- Sep 6, 2007
- Messages
- 4
Hi all ... I already posted this once, but for some reason it didn't appear.
Anyway, just wanted a little constructive feedback on this prologue I'm working on at the minute - just wanting to see if I'm on the right lines
The sun was shining down on Rai as he relaxed on the beach in his makeshift deckchair made from discarded plastic bottles and ropeweed. It smelled a little funky, but at least it was comfortable-ish, or at least it would be if there weren’t a bottlecap sticking into his kidney. Rai sat there a moment and wondered if he might be mistaken for a crazy person. The image of a muttering hermit with an overemphasised limp gathering flotsam popped into his mind, which amused him briefly, then came to the conclusion that yes, he most likely would be confused for someone a little bit special if the situation was actually happening.
Rai opened his eyes and left the tiny world that he had created in his mind, and turned over in his tiny cabin bed. His designated cube looked as though as if you were to ask it what it wanted to be when it grew up it would reply to you, like a child dressed up as a fireman, with such aspiration and an almost awe inspiring, glassy-eyed gaze that it wanted to be a garbage dump. Rai never liked to throw things out, his walls were covered in pictures of other people's love interests and families, letters from home, and postcards from distant worlds he'd never even heard of, and in some cases even doubted their existence entirely.
The round faced, moustachioed man rubbed the grimy, circular window with his overall sleeve to be greeted by darkness. “Hello” said the darkness, cheerfully. Rai grunted in reply and closed the shutter, now was not the time to be socialising with literal personifications. Today was going to be a day where absolutely nothing of any interest whatsoever happens, just like any other day on this heap of scrap metal they decided to call a warship. 'Harmony', they decided to call it. Irony wasn't one of Rai's strong points, but he was sure he would have appreciated it had he taken the time to discover the importance of a personality.
As he sat up and wandered over to his grubby mirror, he saw himself as one usually does when looking at a highly polished reflective surface. Rai Baron, Maintenance Technician hash one three six, subjunctions fifteen through twenty-three B, decks nine through twelve, jump shaft maintenance, shafts Beta and Gamma-Forward. Rai gave himself a half-hearted salute. The Rai in the mirror returned the salute with a hearty smile and a vigorous flick just to be friendly, not that it was particularly necessary to salute at all since they were of the same rank. He looked happy and clean shaven with a nice haircut. The world seemed so much finer beyond the glass. The Rai on the outside, however, with his unkempt hair, face like sandpaper, and what might be mistaken for a furry slug over his lip, felt quite neutral, as if a fog of beige soup mix had somehow sat itself around him with the sole purpose of absorbing his emotions. Perhaps it was chicken and mushroom. Suddenly Rai knew exactly what he was to have for lunch.
Yes, I'm not happy with the overly cliché ending, for the moment it's just "an ending".
Anyway, any constructive criticism would be helpful, thanks!
Anyway, just wanted a little constructive feedback on this prologue I'm working on at the minute - just wanting to see if I'm on the right lines
Prologue
The sun was shining down on Rai as he relaxed on the beach in his makeshift deckchair made from discarded plastic bottles and ropeweed. It smelled a little funky, but at least it was comfortable-ish, or at least it would be if there weren’t a bottlecap sticking into his kidney. Rai sat there a moment and wondered if he might be mistaken for a crazy person. The image of a muttering hermit with an overemphasised limp gathering flotsam popped into his mind, which amused him briefly, then came to the conclusion that yes, he most likely would be confused for someone a little bit special if the situation was actually happening.
Rai opened his eyes and left the tiny world that he had created in his mind, and turned over in his tiny cabin bed. His designated cube looked as though as if you were to ask it what it wanted to be when it grew up it would reply to you, like a child dressed up as a fireman, with such aspiration and an almost awe inspiring, glassy-eyed gaze that it wanted to be a garbage dump. Rai never liked to throw things out, his walls were covered in pictures of other people's love interests and families, letters from home, and postcards from distant worlds he'd never even heard of, and in some cases even doubted their existence entirely.
The round faced, moustachioed man rubbed the grimy, circular window with his overall sleeve to be greeted by darkness. “Hello” said the darkness, cheerfully. Rai grunted in reply and closed the shutter, now was not the time to be socialising with literal personifications. Today was going to be a day where absolutely nothing of any interest whatsoever happens, just like any other day on this heap of scrap metal they decided to call a warship. 'Harmony', they decided to call it. Irony wasn't one of Rai's strong points, but he was sure he would have appreciated it had he taken the time to discover the importance of a personality.
As he sat up and wandered over to his grubby mirror, he saw himself as one usually does when looking at a highly polished reflective surface. Rai Baron, Maintenance Technician hash one three six, subjunctions fifteen through twenty-three B, decks nine through twelve, jump shaft maintenance, shafts Beta and Gamma-Forward. Rai gave himself a half-hearted salute. The Rai in the mirror returned the salute with a hearty smile and a vigorous flick just to be friendly, not that it was particularly necessary to salute at all since they were of the same rank. He looked happy and clean shaven with a nice haircut. The world seemed so much finer beyond the glass. The Rai on the outside, however, with his unkempt hair, face like sandpaper, and what might be mistaken for a furry slug over his lip, felt quite neutral, as if a fog of beige soup mix had somehow sat itself around him with the sole purpose of absorbing his emotions. Perhaps it was chicken and mushroom. Suddenly Rai knew exactly what he was to have for lunch.
Anyway, any constructive criticism would be helpful, thanks!
