Abalone

A college-aged girl named Ally Homes and her mother go on the beach to look for shells.

The ruby red sun rose over Naples, setting the Floridian sky on fire. As the tide fell to it's lowest point, Mrs. Jones wandered out to the sand. Pail in hand, she knelt down and started to sift through the shells. "You know," she said, speaking to her daughter, "I never know what's going on with you. Even when you come to visit, you never tell me anything." Ally, sweeping her unruly blond hair out of her eyes, replied "Well, what do you want to talk about?". "I don't know, how about job plans?" Asked Mrs. Jones, adjusting her sunhat around her grey bun. "You've only got two more years before graduation." "Yeah, and after graduation it's a job, and then marrige, and then my own children and their lives, and then a retirement home and death." Ally muttered, squatting down beside her mother. "Well, that's an awfully pessimistic way to look at things!" Laughed Mrs. Jones, letting her purple cotton dress flow in the wind as she stood. "How about we just look for shells for now?". "Okay" muttered Ally, adjusting her Florida State hoodie. As the sun climbed higher, mother and daughter wandered apart, combing the sand.
There hours later, Mrs. Jones walked over to Ally. "Whatcha got, pumpkin?""Mom..." groaned Ally, handing her pail to her mom. Mrs. Jones took the pail and quickly sorted through the shells. "Honey, these are all broken or common. Didn't you find any good shells?". "I found half of an abalone shell, and some whelk fragments!" Complained Ally, indignantly stuffing her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. "Sweetie, why do you pick up all of the bad shells instead of the decent ones?" Implored Mrs. Jones. "I like them, okay. I think they're pretty, I'm picking them up! I don't care if they're the wrong type of shell or if they're broken!" Shouted Ally, rising to her feet. Mrs. Jones looked up silently, not sure how to respond to such a declaration. Ally sighed, stormed off for thirty feet, turned and came back for her pail, and marched off again.

Author's Note

This is my first short story, so I hope you like it!

Reviews

[Bryan Webb]

I think this is a good start. Your characters should have a little more depth to them. Why are mother and daughter searching for shells; is it a common thing they've done since her child was little?
Might I also suggest starting each dialog sentence on a new line? For example:

'"You know," she said, speaking to her daughter, "I never know what's going on with you. Even when you come to visit, you never tell me anything."
Ally, sweeping her unruly blond hair out of her eyes, replied "Well, what do you want to talk about?".
"I don't know, how about job plans?" Asked Mrs. Jones, adjusting her sunhat around her grey bun. "You've only got two more years before graduation."
"Yeah, and after graduation it's a job, and then marriage, and then my own children and their lives, and then a retirement home and death." Ally muttered, squatting down beside her mother.'
Something like that. Also helps a short story look a little fuller.

All and all I think this is a good piece of writing and that you've got an eye for subtle details that help weave your story, but I feel the ending leaves something to be desired and doesn't really offer any closure; I recommend expanding on this.

I hope this review helps you and don't be discouraged! This was still a good piece and you've only got up to go from here.

[Stan Lee]

I like that the shells are kind of metaphorical. There could be more to this story... Maybe give us a few clues about what is actually going on with her. She seems to be rebelling against the mothers ideals... but why. Apart from typical teenaged angst. :) Great start though.