A college assignemnt. I needed to pick my best or worst experience with one of the 5 senses. I was the only person to recieve an A on this, and it's a piece I am extremely proud of.
This miserable fall day could have never prepared my eyes for the beauty that was to come only hours later. For once, the Manhattan air was not dominated by taxi horns, and the sound of corporate neck ties stepping their way through the city streets and sidewalks, but instead, by the sound of rain droplets plunging from the sky and on to the pavement. However, nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. I made my 19 block walk from Penn Station to Roseland Ballroom, and there she was waiting for me. Only literally in my dreams. Living, breathing, walking, talking beauty, the most vivid of its kind, standing not ten feet away from me. She is clearly out of my league. Infact, I can't imagine that she is in anyones league.
I could not take my eyes off of her. Her lips. Jesus Christ those lips that she had. Full lips that fit her face quite nicely that were painted in a crimson and shined to perfection which easily stood out on her smooth, powdery skin. A silver hoop hugged the right side of her bottom lip that I caught her tongue playing with on several glances that I took the liberty of taking. A small and pointy nose sat in the center of her face with a tiny, fake diamond stud going through her left nostril. She had the bluest eyes that would camouflage in a clear July sky. Wrapped around her eyes was a thick black layer of eye shadow and mascara which dripped down her cheeks from the tearing sky. And it was at this point that I realized, Atreyu was wrong. There IS beauty in bleeding mascara. She chose not to take advantage of the hood that was attached to her grey hoodie, and let her silky and straight jet black hair mosh through the wind. Her hair seemed to flail through the air and into her face in slow motion, which she would constantly clear away from her eyes with her small, pale, black nail polish painted fingers.
This specimen could not have been more than 5 feet, 3 inches tall. She had small breasts that were perfectly proportionate to her body. She was short and skinny, which made her tall, black and white boots that probably contained enough lace to lasso the homeless guy across the street that was screaming what seemed like a mix between Gibberish and Japanese, or some other language that I will never learn...or maybe it was perfect English but I just chose not to pay attention, stand out as one of her many visible bold features. She stood talking to her two girlfriends for the next hour until the venue had opened, and I am confident that if I was asked to give a detailed description of either of them to police, it would extend to them both being female, and end right then and there.
It was finally time to walk into the venue. I had my friends ticket that I was waiting for, and lucky for me, that son of a b***h was late, and I was forced to let people that were behind me go inside before I could. For whatever reason, I chose to never bring this chick up to him even though it had consumed me for the entire night. I watched as the only thing that has ever literally taken my breath away turned her back on me and walk into the distance. It wasn't until seconds before the last time I would ever lay my eyes on her that I noticed the red pitchfork tattoo on the back of her right leg. Just another unique feature that stood out to me in case our paths were meant to cross again that night, or any night. Instead of enjoying the show, I spent a majority of it with my eyes wandering across this orgy of thousands, looking for the girl with the pierced face and black hair. However, she was nowhere to be seen. While it was a disappointment, her figure is forever branded in my mind until the day that our four blue eyes become tangled from a close distance, or until I am the only person to notice an illuminating red pitchfork on the back of someones right leg.
What a description! The figure in your mind was copied and pasted perfectly into mine.
I was literally there in the Roseland ballroom for a couple of minutes, and hoped to stay there forever.
Except the spelling of 'assignment', everything was perfect.
100/100
Wow. Dont laugh, but I feel like I've seen this girl before. I remember seeing someone that fits your description perfectly at a concert at Webster Hall. I have to say, even if it's not that woman, your descriptive skills are unfathomable. You painted this picture perfectly in my head, and every detail stood out stark in my mind. Wonderful piece!
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Will, this is very much appreciated. Thanks so much.
This is amazing, so vivid, I can clearly picture her in my head. and the reservation of the pitchfork detail, then repetition in the final line, so artful.
Thanks for sharing this piece. I really connected with everything you said. I fell in love ( I don't know if you can say love, but it was a moment I'll never forget, nor has it ever been repeated) like this once, it devastates you doesn't it?.
I actually particularly liked how you described the scene with the homeless man -
"screaming what seemed like a mix between Gibberish and Japanese, or some other language that I will never learn...or maybe it was perfect English but I just chose not to pay attention"
You know what this reminds me of in a very roundabout way? "In a Station of the Metro" by Ezra Pound. In fact, I once had a friend write a similar short story called "One Petal" based on that poem that described very much what you are describing here. So I think that's pretty cool.
The writing is lovely here, the story is lush but economical, and avoids cliche while still feeling familiar and relatable. All in all, and excellent little tale, and I'm glad you got a good mark on it for your assignment.
I have so much to say about the last paragraph, so let me just bring up a few minor things first!
In the beginning paragraph watch out for tense shifts. You went from past to present and then picked up in past tense again in the second paragraph. Read it out loud a few times and you will hear it and see where I'm referring to.
In the the second paragraph, you need to revise your sentences, because I understand what you're trying to say, but the sentences themselves (or perhaps, the metaphors) don't make sense the way they're written, and they need to be looked at again. Maybe just try a few different things and see what works for you. I love the idea of the running mascara though.
Okay, the final paragraph! Ah! I loved it! I read it at least half a dozen times! That one line that goes: "Instead of enjoying the show, I spent a majority of it with my eyes wondering across this orgy of thousands, looking for the girl with the pierced face and black hair," ...AMAZING! You evoke such emotion in this final paragraph. It's brilliant. The only thing I would change is, in this sentence, "wondering" is actually "wandering."
It's beautiful, but yet kind of in a hauntingly way if that makes sense. The girl is different from other modern stories that you read, in which that is good. I like this
write. It is captivating and alluring really, it pulled me in more. Awesome job!
I really like this :') I love how the girl you're admiring isn't your typical, model like girl, but how she's herself, different, not the average kind of girl that most men would stop to look at. It's very well written, not surprised you got that A, haha, well done, and thanks for sharing :D
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Thanks for the kind words, and thanks for taking the time to read!
I've been writing on and off since high school for personal pleasure. I love music and quotes with a strong meaning or a deep/sad meaning behind it. 27 year old male from Long Island New York.
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