My brother's working on a postcard story for The Writers' Union of Canada Postcard Story Competition and asked me to critique it. Well, I was somewhat harsh, and said I didn't like it too much--so I was challenged to write a similar story (<250 words) on a similar topic (mine disaster) from a similar point of view. So that said, here it is for your considered opinion:
Two Loves
By S.D. Campbell
Cocooned within the bosom of Mother Earth he chipped away at her stony arteries. The air smelled of deep, and dark, and dust and smoke. A glint of steel, a flash of spark, and she would rumble and shift in her slumber.
The smell of fear. His fear. Their fear. Her fear?
Did Her heart beat faster with that fear, or was it his heart, his feet, his fear?
Clutching, grabbing, screaming, choking. Out, where was out?
Stony fingers tore his skin. She wished him to stay. Cries of terror and despair in the darkness. She didn't wish him to go. She would clutch him to her breast, and keep him embraced within her.
Closer now. He could almost smell sunlight. He breathed deeply of it.
A mistake. Coughing, choking, stumbling.
Another rumble in the distance. Was she choking? Choked with fear?
What did she fear?
He was crawling now, over Them, their weak fingers pulling at him, plucking his sleeve, but they could no more hold him back than she could. Her heart-beats grew louder, more insistent. His scrabbling towards sunlight became more desperate.
He loved her, but there was another, and She loved him and he her more so than Mother Earth. He was not ready to sleep with Her yet. The other…
Golden hair, sapphire eyes, molded from pale clay she waited just beyond the dark.
Suddenly, finally all was sound and fury, signifying….
The other and her fear.
Cheers,
Sean
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