The Word Cloud

Hi everyone. I've just signed up to the community and am excited to be here. It looks like a great site. I'm posting a short story and would be grateful for any feedback.
Many thanks
Pete

A night in Lyon

The girl sat on the bed, sighed and closed her eyes. ‘Two words: dismal and shit,’ she said.

The boy followed her inside the room and put down the case. His arms had gone numb and his throat was dry. ‘We’ll make it like home,’ he said. ‘We’ve bought your posters.’ He opened a case, pulled out a pink feather boa and draped it on the back of the chair. Then he took out a crumpled poster that had been rolled into a tube. He took off the rubber band and opened it up. It was Edward Hopper’s Girl at Sewing Machine.

‘Stop it, please,’ the girl said.

The boy held the poster against the wall above the desk. ‘Do you have any bluetac?’ he asked. ‘Did you bring any?’

‘I said stop it. You’re making me sad.’

The boy put the poster on the desk and looked at her. ‘I’m just trying to make you feel at home. It will be nice, when we’re done.’

The girl twiddled a strand of blonde hair between thumb and finger. Eventually, she said, ‘I don’t want to be here baby. I can’t speak French, I hate Lyon and I hate this room.’ She lifted her head from her hands. ‘Look, there’s no carpet. And this bed is as hard as a rock.’

The boy opened the thick beige curtains and let in the sunshine. It was a warm August evening and the sky was blue. Outside, a few students sunbathed on the grass. They were drinking beer and listening to hip-hop. ‘It’s only a year,’ he said. ‘It’ll go quickly.’

‘You said the same about Exeter.’

‘And I was right.’

They went outside, holding hands. It was the ultimate week of the holidays and the corridors were empty.

‘It’s soulless,’ she said.

‘It won’t be. When the other students get here.’

The girl looked like she was about to cry. ‘Let’s get drunk,’ she said.

They walked to the main road that led back into town. The girl clutched his hand. ‘I’m afraid I’ll lose you,’ she said. ‘You’ll go back to your boys and forget about me.’

‘Don’t be silly. We’re a team, remember.’

She smiled. ‘Dan and Jane.’

They found a bar on the outskirts of town. In one corner, four men played table football. They were shouting and swearing. A barman sat on a stall, his pencil poised over a crossword.

Jane said, ‘Est-ce que je peut avoir deux bieres si’il vous plait?’

The man grinned. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Plus de Anglais?’

‘Oui, je viens d’arriver. I’m studying French, over at the university,’ Jane said.

‘Well you’re very welcome,’ the man said. ‘Lots of English boys and girls come here. You’ll like it here.’

They sat at a table by the window and lit cigarettes. Dan took a sip of beer and looked through the window at the passing traffic. It was starting to get dark.

Jane said, ‘You don’t have to live here. You’ll forget all about it. In fact, I bet you wish you were on the train home.’

Dan said, ‘It’s exciting to live abroad. Just think how good your French will be when you come back.’

‘I don’t want an adventure,’ she said. ‘What you mean is an adventure without you. What you mean…’

‘I didn’t mean that at all,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t tell me what I mean.’

‘What did you mean?’

Dan said, ‘I’m just jealous, that’s all. You have a new place to explore and new people to meet. I’m going back to Durham. The same old faces, the same old pubs. It’s boring really, doing the same thing every week.’

‘Will you visit me?’

‘Of course.’

‘No you won’t. You can’t afford it and you can’t be bothered.’

Dan sighed. ‘I’ll use my student loan. I’ll come at Christmas.’

‘I’m coming home at Christmas you wally.’ She grabbed a strand of her fringe and twiddled it between her fingers. ‘Can I ask you something Dan? I know you’re going to get upset and I don’t want you to. But do you remember last week when I was at yours and you were acting funny and the phone went.’

Dan nodded. He lit a cigarette and looked out the window.

'I picked up the phone downstairs. You know this, don’t you? I wasn’t spying but I picked it up just as you picked it up.’

Dan took a drag on his cigarette and said, ‘It was a girl from my course. We’re doing a group presentation next month.’

Jane’s fingers trembled a little and she took her hands off the table and put them on her lap. She said, ‘She sounded foreign, Dan. What’s her name?’

‘Rebecca.’

‘Rebecca?’

‘Yes.’ Dan finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

Jane took a sip of beer. ‘Why did she sound foreign?’

‘Because she’s Dutch.’

‘Dutch?’

‘Yes.’

‘She’s called Rebecca and she’s Dutch.’

‘Yes.’

‘And she’s on your course, this Rebecca.’

‘That’s right.’

‘You’ve never mentioned her.’

‘There are hundreds of people on my course.’ He looked at his fingers and began to count. ‘Have I told you about Jess? She’s in my language class. Then there’s Rob. He’s a nice guy. He’s in my modernism class. Did I tell you we went for a beer the other week? It was after a lecture. We got quite smashed actually. I could go on.’

Jane waited for him to finish. ‘Don’t be clever.’

‘Don’t be paranoid.’

‘That’s not fair, Dan. You know it’s not.’ She met his eyes and he looked away. ‘I put the phone down straight away. I wasn’t spying on you. But Rebecca sounded really excited. And the reason I don’t know her name is because…’ Her voice caught a little and she stopped.

Dan said, ‘I don’t think we should spend the evening like this. Do you want another drink?’

Jane took a deep breath, downed the rest of her beer and lit another cigarette. ‘No, you’re right. Let’s stop. I know I’m being paranoid. I know you don’t like me when I’m like this. I can’t help it really, not when you’re so far away.’ She blew smoke in his direction and smiled. ‘Your course is such bullshit. So much waffle.’

The sky had darkened with black clouds and it had started to rain. On the pavement, an old lady lifted an upturned palm to the sky. Dan said, ‘You’re not being paranoid. I should have explained last week. I knew you’d picked up the phone and I should have explained.’

‘Forget about it.’

‘It’s going to be fine,’

‘We have been good together, haven’t we?’ she went on. ‘And I want it to be good again.’

‘We’ll be fine. We always are.’

‘I’m terrible, I know. I’m horribly jealous.’ She laughed despite herself and tears filled her eyes.

‘Let’s go. We always fight when we’re drunk.’

They went outside. The rain bounced off the cobbled streets and into their shoes. It dripped from their hair and into their eyes. ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ Jane said. She twirled about in front of him, her face lifted to the sky. Dan took hold of her waist and pulled her towards him. Her hair smelt of peaches and cigarettes. A fork of lightning, then a low peal of thunder. The rain came heavier. They could barely see where they were going. ‘We’re going to drown,’ squealed Jane. She pulled herself free from his arm and ran towards the centre of the small square. Dan watched her dance and twirl. She looked very young and small.

When they got back to the room, they were tired and hungry and their clothes were soaked through. The two suitcases stood in the middle of the room. The crumpled poster lay on the desk, the feather boa was draped over the chair. There was the bed, the basin, a cupboard and a chest of drawers.

Jane opened the largest case. ‘I’ve of a bottle of Pimms in here,’ she said. ‘Grandma gave it to me as a leaving present. Can you believe it? I’ve never drunk Pimms in my life.’

They stripped out of their clothes and sat in their underwear on the bed. Jane made a makeshift ashtray out of a toothbrush holder they found by the sink. The rain had stopped and the dormitory was silent. They passed the bottle of Pimms between them until they felt sick.

Jane said, ‘It feels bloody lonely here, doesn’t it? Like we’re the only people on the planet.’ Dan nodded. He was circling his fingers over her cold feet. ‘It’s like the setting of a serial killer film. There’s probably some nutter stalking the hallway.’

‘Stop it.’

She flexed her foot and poked his bare stomach. ‘You’re getting fat.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are, just a little. How are your arms? You were whinging about them all the way here.’

‘Those suitcases killed me. When you stood at the top of the stairs, shouting at me, my forearms unfurled like plasticine.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She laughed, put a hand to her mouth. ‘I can be so horrid, can’t I? But I thought we’d miss the train.’

He leaned forward and kissed her. She opened her mouth, then pulled away. ‘Do you want to finish this?’ She picked up the bottle. Some of the pink liquid spilled onto the mattress. ‘It’s gross, isn’t it?’

He took the bottle off her and took a swig. It made him gag. ‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said.

‘I want to talk.’

‘We’ve done too much talking.’

‘There’s one more thing, Dan. I’m only saying this because I’m drunk. Don’t think I’m being paranoid, but there’s one more thing.’

Dan put his fingers to her lips, kissed her again and rolled on top of her. She fell backwards with a squeal.

‘Wait,’ she said. ‘There is one more thing. When I picked up the phone…’

He was pushing down on her and trying to undo the clasp of her bra. ‘We’ll talk ourselves mad,’ he said. ‘No more tonight.’ Her bra came loose and he tossed it to the floor. She was very pale and cold.

‘It’s just what she said. When you picked up the phone and said hello, she said, ‘It’s me.’ Why would she say that Dan?’

‘I don’t know.’ He was looking at her sad eyes. ‘I don’t know why she’d say that.’

‘She’s just on your course right. You’re just doing a project together. So why should she announce herself as ‘me’.’

They slipped under the sheets. It had got so cold they shook in each other’s arms for a while. After a little while, Dan said, ‘I don’t know why she’d say that, Jane,’ but she had begun to snore. He stared at the peeling ceiling until he fell asleep.

When they woke, it was almost midday. Dan’s arm had gone numb under her weight. He pulled himself free and got out of bed. He splashed his face with water from the basin and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T shirt.

Jane sat up and twiddled her fringe between her fingers. She was naked and bleary-eyed. ‘Come back to bed,’ she said.

‘I’ve got a train to catch. I have to be there in an hour.’

‘Oh Dan, you’re so sensible. I’ll get dressed. God knows where the showers are in this prison.’

They caught the bus to the centre of town and walked to the station. It was a Monday and the streets were busy, the cafes were full. It was sunny but pools of water remained from the night’s downpour. They passed the little bar and the square where Jane had danced. Inside, they could see the barman, doing his crossword.

Near the station, they stopped for a coffee. Jane looked around her. The café was full of students, gossiping and eating and drinking. A man in one corner turned the pages of an enormous hardback novel. ‘I think I’ll be alright here,’ she said. ‘It’s not so bad in the day.’

‘You’ll be fine. You’ll make lots of friends.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I think I will.’

At the station, Dan stood by the train carriage, his rucksack by his side. Jane smoked a cigarette and looked up at the station clock. ‘Tick, tock,’ she said. ‘I can really feel it this time.’

‘Feel what?’

‘That we’re done.’

Dan looked at her feet and said nothing. She gripped his arm, pushed her head into his chest and closed her eyes. He held her but they did not speak. ‘We were 14,’ she eventually said.

‘Six years ago.’

‘Six years seems an awfully long time, doesn’t it?’ She pushed herself closer, clasped him with both hands.

‘In some ways.’

She pulled free from his chest and kissed him briefly on the lips. She said, ‘When I came to Durham last Easter, it was so strange. I hardly recognized you. You were so different. Not in a bad way, not at all in a bad way. But I left feeling very lonely.’

‘I haven’t changed,’ Dan said. He looked at his watch. ‘I have to go.’

‘There was nothing we could have done about it really, is there?’

‘We’re working at it Jane.’

‘I’m not sure there was anything we could have done. It just happens all the bloody time. It’s quite mundane really.’

Dan picked up his rucksack. ‘I wish you wouldn’t talk like this.’

Jane planted a kiss on his cheek and stepped back. ‘Get on the train, Dan, before I start blubbing.’

They embraced on the platform until the whistle blew.

‘Don’t forget, Dan,’ she said, as he opened the automatic door and stepped into the carriage. She touched his hand just before the doors closed. ‘Not even when you’re old and impotent.’

Dan waved as the train pulled away. He watched the small figure in a pink leather jacket recede into the distance, waving back.

He saw her throw her cigarette to the floor and immediately scrabble for another. He saw her struggling to light it in the wind.

Hi Pete

Welcome to the Cloud and thanks for posting.

I think this is very good, and your writing is clearly accomplished. A smooth, easy style. I like the way that the relationship comes to an end without either of them really having the "break-up conversation". This is well done. Below are some ideas which might improve the story further. They are just some thoughts on top of what is already good.

1) this is a very gentle and subtle story. I wonder if it has enough of a "punch" to hold every reader's attention? For me, I kept wondering if there was going to be some mega twist somewhere, but it didn't quite come. Something to think about.... see what the others say!

2) The girl twiddles her hair twice:
The girl twiddled a strand of blonde hair between thumb and finger.
Jane sat up and twiddled her fringe between her fingers
That jarred for me. Do you want to change one of these?

3) I wasn't sure what the "case" was (initial thought was guitar case). Maybe name it "suitcase" first time round.

4) I think you could streamline the flow and move things along a bit more quickly, sometimes by avoiding unecessary repetition, e.g.
‘We were 14,’ she eventually said.

‘Six years ago.’

‘Six years Seems an awfully long time, doesn’t it?’ She pushed herself closer, clasped him with both hands.

‘In some ways.’.

...

‘There was [is?] nothing we could have done about it really, is [was?] there?’ note the tense

‘We’re working at it Jane.’

‘I’m not sure there was anything we could have done. It just happens all the bloody time. It’s quite mundane really.’

5) There are a few moments of "tell" rather than "show"
"The girl looked like she was about to cry" - What was it that made her look this way?
"‘I didn’t mean that at all,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t tell me what I mean.’" You could remove "snapped" as the words he speaks imply ("show") this well already.

6) "‘I said stop it. You’re making me sad.’"
I had the distinct impression she was already sad. Maybe try "You're making it worse"?

Overall though, I think this is very good, so keep it up. Looking forward to seeing some of the other reviews of this, and more of your posts.

Hi Philippa, thanks ever so much for your comments. This is my first venture into a writer's community and it's great to get such detailed, useful criticism and advice. I wondered whether it was too gentle a story and needed more of a twist. I'm going to have a play around with it, getting rid of those 'tell rather than show' moments and perhaps cutting it a little bit so it moves forward with a bit more pace. Thanks again, I'm very much looking forward to reading other people's work and posting more stories.
Pete

Hi PJ - Welcome to the cloud!
Your writing certainly reads really well...don't think there were any glitches like spelling or puntuation to take my attention away from the story.
You could probably tighten it a bit as Philipa suggested - check for the repetitions and whether they're really necessary. Like when you mention the hair twiddling and redescribe the contents of the room when your characters get back to it, or how many times your female MC remarks how she's not being paranoid. In real life, we probably do exactly that - repeat ourselves - but the reader won't want to keep thinking 'you said that before.'
Hope that helps in some small way, and look forward to seeing what else you post.

Hiya, thanks for your comments. Really appreciated. Reading back, there is certainly some repetitions I could cut out to make it tighter. Thanks again, it's really good to be a part of the site. It's something I've been meaning to join for a long time.

Hi PJ
I found the story a little boring but you kept it going with plenty of dialogue and 'movement'. I think you have a good command of English (your words flow naturally) and with this this in mind, I really look forward to reading one of your stories in the future, hopefully one with a bit more 'bite'!

'John'

Thanks for your feedback John. Will certainly try and aim for something with a bit more of a dynamic plot next time. The short story genre is fairly new to me.

Hi Pj

Sorry - I have to disagree with Phil & Squidge - this is v.v.very well written. If ths is your first attempt then I salute you - you will go far.

A classic story-line - a 'write-what-you-know' story ???

Your story is subtle - lots of dialogue which reads and 'sounds' realistic - the couple know each other so well yet the dialogue sounds fresh - well done.

I would have a look at the beginning of the piece - it is a bit clumsy and the reader has to some work into it - the who/where/what thing ???

The girl sat on the bed, sighed and closed her eyes. ‘Two words: dismal and shit,’ she said.

The boy followed her inside the room and put down the case.

... what about...

The girl sat on the bed and looked at the decor.
"Dismal and shit,’ she said.

The boy put down her case. "But, hey. It's France."
... just an idea - to set the scene...

As ever - ignore at will

Well, I read and really enjoyed it. I loved the dialogue, the hair twirling a bit much, use it once and perhaps mentions it a soothing habit of hers, or something she does when she's nervous. So he's already back at uni, october start and has been for a bit? So when is she starting? It just feels late in the day, also her French is so very polite - is that intentional? I quite liked the 'dismal & shit' line, in fact I love it and for me - because I have been there in dismal & shit, I instantly bonded with her, but I would suggest that, unless she is going to be a stalking serial killer she could be a little less needy, that's how I read her. If I had picked up that phone, he'd be chewing on his nuts and I'd be on that train to Lyon alone, but then I'm a bit scary that way. :-)

Hi Pete,
A really interesting piece.
My favourite bit was when Jane questioned Dan about his telephone call with the mystery girl. I could tell that something about the conversation had disturbed her, and I was curious to find out more. Perhaps you could have strung that out further? You can't please everybody, of course, and my personal preference would be to create a more claustrophobic feel by keeping the setting in the room and focusing on the jealousy aspect. But maybe that's a different story!
Nice work.

Really enjoyed the piece and agree with all the comments above. This story can be developed further to make the scenes come alive. The only thing I did not get was why they fell asleep. Was that the point? Nothing happened so the relationship was dead, or did it? Maybe I missed it. It's a thread to look at... Even before a break up they might have done it one more time - for closure? Just an idea...Also, from my experience it's usually the guy that falls asleep first...especially when a girl has something on her mind...hee hee :) hope this helps!

Thanks again for the feedback. I can't believe it's taken me so long to find this site - it's so encouraging and inspiring and useful.

bikerjob - yes, definitely a write-what-you-know story. I'm always a bit guilty of that. Thanks for the advice about the opening. I'm going to rework it so it's more clear as to where they are, why etc.

Ron - I did try and set it all in the room at first, but felt it needed some movement / pace and to get more of a sense of place.

Noodledoode - The hair twiddling is definitely going to go! You're the second person to say that didn't work. Your're right about the French too, it's far too bloody polite for a bar. I'll change that. Thanks

Islander - Maybe that could be an alternative ending!

Pj - STOP - don't re-write anything - leave this in a drawer for a month - go to classes - study pasta - anything... don't spoil it - please

I agree with biker, and the other people who have liked this story. Those who found it too subtle or too uneventful, well there's plenty of dramatic stuff out there for them, but there's not enough subtle stuff like this. It's strong in its own way - i.e. the story of two young people whose relationship is gradually disintegrating in a realistic 'students form a new life' kind of a way.

Pj, Interesting and entertaining read although not dramatic in my eyes. But it doesn't have to be in order to hold my interest. As for the "School Girl" French, leave it exactly as you have written it. Anyone (or most) who learn university French speak with full grammar and no coloquial expression. But nobody else does. "duex demi" or "duex pression" is what she will be saying in a few days. Good start. Welcome