Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Scene

I remembered the first time I was robbed. It was a shady alley. The path was a tar road, the building on the right was abandoned, and the building on the left was never completed. The paint was beginning to fade on both buildings. Dumpsters, graffiti on the walls, broken bottles, burnt cigarettes-- the only thing missing in this scene is a rat making a dash to the dumpster. I was ignorant.
     I should have listened to my friend’s warning, but I was young and considerably naïve (dumb). I gave the world and everyone in it more credit than it deserved. It was a sort of childhood innocence that had been preserved by the people who had raised me. I was sheltered.
     I took the first step and my friend reluctantly followed. It was dark that night—the moonlight was dimmed by passing clouds—but I took note of the little things: water dripping from broken a pipe, and the echoes of crickets chirping. We were almost out when we heard the sound of a motorcycle speeding towards us. I was scared.
     There was little to identify about the person on the motorcycle, except that he was a stocky male—he wore a regular t-shirt and navy blue jeans. Before I could analyze the situation, he managed to get a firm grip on my sleeve. In an adrenaline-pumped situation, the man and I were engaged in a tug-of-war, and what ensued was a quick succession of events: He pulled. I struggled. He shoved. I fell. In the heat of the moment, all my friend could do was stand perfectly still—he looked like he was screaming, but not a single sound was heard. My ‘fight or flight’ instinct was on high alert, and I chose ‘Flight.’ In a matter of seconds after the fall, I got up, grabbed my friend and said: “Let’s go!” I was confused.
     He clicked back into reality, and we ran as fast as we could from the scene. The man, however, decided not to pursue. I tried to make sense of what happened that night. Sometimes, my friend and I would talk about that day. Occasionally, he reminded me how lucky I was--narrowly escaping a robbery. But he couldn’t be more wrong. That day, innocence was robbed. I was never the same.

6 comments:

  1. Josh,

    We already talked about this and I'm anxious to see what your classmates' suggestions are, so I'll be brief.

    Possibilities for reflection:

    1. What do you _really_ mean about your innocence being lost? Did you turn from naive kid to hardened adult, or do things not really happen that way? Is it more complicated somehow?

    Also, I think you could include the details: place. Your age. Your companion's specs.

    Remember: writing can often be about making the strange familiar and the familiar strange. So, where do you need to be utterly clear about a confusing situation? And where can you allow yourself to be mor artful about what might seem, at first glance, to be mundane.

    Liking the way you rendered the actual fight, by the way. Short sentences work there. What if you tried it as one long sentence? What kind of different effect might that have?

    DW

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  2. Your writing style here really worked with your topic, this is the beginning of a very powerful piece! I liked how you set the scene so descriptively. Also how you said you had a childhood innocence preserved by the people who raised you, which you claim is lost at the end of the piece. I would definitely elaborate on that as you expand this piece. Great job!
    -Emily

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  3. The descriptions in the beginning are fantastic. They paint a great, but scary picture. Your style of writing works really well for this piece. My only suggestion is maybe describing the person who attacked you, maybe any connection you felt to him.

    This is really fantastic!

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  4. I like the reflection of this piece; the ability to look at who you were and who you are now. And the pivotal-ness(?) of this one moment, how you feel it changed you, is something very powerful.

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  5. Josh,

    Wow - the opening line is great! Just like we talked about in class when pain is brushed off nonchalantly (at least at first here) it really makes an impact. Some of the best stories involve the writer telling us what they're about to tell us from the beginning. Maybe it's just the PR major in me - but I think this is a cool approach!

    I really like the short sentences to describe the struggle, too. I would like to see more of your reflections/thoughts after you processed what had happened to you. I love the play on words with your innocence being robbed, but I almost want to know more.

    Nice work!

    -Sam

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  6. Josh,

    First and foremost your blog looks great! On a writing note, my favorite detail of your writing is the conclusion of each paragraph. I'm a very big fan of ending on a bold statement and I felt that the short sentence structure very clearly portrayed your message. You did a very nice job of making all the smaller components of your scene fit together as a whole. The details of your image fit together well, but I really think I was distracted from your story because I really want to "steal" some of your stylistic components.

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