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The Red Badge, The Green Badge

by Jordan789 

Posted: 16 June 2008
Word Count: 705
Summary: revision 1 - or, formally titled "draft II" Also for Oonah's Challenge still. Rejudge me if you wishes. THanks. !


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In the dream, there was a desert, a sun-burnt sky, and a mountain that cut across the sand like the tail of a giant iguana. There were no characters, only a sad mountain and a lonely desert. She felt nothing. No desire, nothing to search for, and no fear. The scene stayed there in front of her for a very long time. The image never faltered, and never changed, and then she woke up.

In the morning, she lay in bed while Mark prepared for work. She felt the same, somehow, as when she dreamed, as if part of her was forgotten on that desert planet. He stood by the mirror, looping a striped tie through itself. A dull heat hung about the room, and the window needed to be opened. Outside, the day was beautiful. The sheet under her was stained in sweat.

She propped herself up on her elbow and watched him. He looked intently on himself, and his tie. “I think I saw the future last night,” she said.

“Oh? Any aliens?” He asked.

“No. It was just—like a desert. Can you open the window?”

She had the day off. They worked opposite schedules, for the most part, and these moments between events--preparing for work, brushing their teeth and drying off from the shower--were the meat and potatoes of their relationship.

“It was like a scene I remembered from my childhood. A mountain upstate New York that my parents took us to because our uncle had a cabin, and we’d hike in the woods, and there was this area where this mountain chugged across the valley. Otherwise the valley was perfect, with trees and grass and probably a stream, and then this rocky mountain just decided to zigzag across it. Only everything was dead and barren now. Like—really barren. Like Mars barren.”

“Why don’t you paint it? Paint them both. Before and after.”

After what? She thought maybe nuclear holocaust, but not there. Not up there in the middle of nowhere. That land would always be the same. Global warming, though, that could change things. Sure. “It was weird. That’s all.”

He turned and gave her a look that seemed to question her sanity and stability.

“Look, baby-cakes. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. People, you know, take care of these things. Things take care of things. I’m going to go to work.” On the dresser, besides a photo of the two of them at his father’s third wedding, his wallet, keys and cigar lighter are in the same spot they are in every morning. The last thing he does before work is stuff them back into his pocket. He stuffs them back into his pocket. “God, what’s gotten into you lately?”

“I don’t know. God. Can’t a girl do a little midnight fortune telling without her fiancé getting all up in arms against her?”

“Have a good day, alright? Get some sun.” He came over to the bed and kissed her on the forehead. She grimaced with the kiss.

“You get some sun,” she said, but then she felt bad because he had good intentions for her. God knows a little sun wouldn’t hurt her. “I’m sorry. Have a good day, honey.”

“You too.”

He left and she lay back in bed. She closed her eyes, listened for a minute to a few birds outside, the traffic rolling by, and then she pictured the one scene: the red sky, red desert, red mountains, all so similar in shade and hue, that they were barely distinguishable, as if a sandstorm swirled debris over everything. And then she recalled the past: the green tops of trees below her, stretched out like a model mountain that an old man might put together in his basement, each little tree like a toothpick decorated with green cloth. If the old man were with her, she’d ask how he recreated the texture of those trees-- how small they looked. If her arms were long enough she could snatch up bundles at a time. She fell back asleep and didn’t dream, but woke up feeling groggy, with nothing to do but watch daytime television and lie around the apartment, and wait for her boyafriend to come home.







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Comments by other Members



V`yonne at 23:58 on 16 June 2008  Report this post
Oh, what a wonderful start! The real desert here is of her own creating and a perfect match to the picture, Jordan.

the noxious sky, the sandstone mountains, and even more curiously, how the dream was bereft of desire: the longing to explore didn’t exist,


“Why don’t you paint it? Paint them both. Before and after.”

After what? She thought


Such a good reference to the inspiration too.

Well done and I am glad you enjoyed doing the challenge

Forbes at 10:44 on 17 June 2008  Report this post
Hi Jordan

Nice piece, full of very flowing descriptions.

In that first para you use the word "like" 4 times when describing stuff. You may want to tone that down - swap a couple of ' em for another word.

The whole felt more of an excerpt than a flash. It didn' t move anywhere - for me.

I loved the writing, and the imagery though.

Cheers

Avis

Elbowsnitch at 18:54 on 18 June 2008  Report this post
Very powerful piece, Jordan. Exceptionally strong writing here, e.g.

Mark stood by the mirror, looping a striped tie through itself. A dull heat hung in the room, and the window needed to be opened. The sheet under her was stained in sweat.


and
Every night he placed his wallet, keys and cigar lighter in the same spot on the edge of the nightstand. In the morning, they shuffled back into his pocket, and hung against his leg until he came home and lined them up again.


One nit - since you' ve already said Mark is her fiancé, you could just say ' Mark' in the last para, rather than ' her boyfriend' .

Such an atmospheric flash!

Frances


V`yonne at 21:51 on 18 June 2008  Report this post
Are you sending it? donwebb@rogers.com

titania177 at 12:40 on 19 June 2008  Report this post
A very colourful flash, I like the beginning, very atmospheric, although I didn' t quite understand the
with eyelids glued open like in a 1960s psycho-horror flick

- whose eyelids, if there aren' t any characters? Or is it her eyelids in the dream?
You build up a great picture of the relationship between these two - the tension, the misunderstanding I sensed. And the fact that they are engaged makes it more intriguing, seemed to be an implication of whether they were right for each other. I' d like to read more!

Tania

tractor at 22:21 on 19 June 2008  Report this post
Hi Jordan,

haunting and powerful writing. This encapsulated what I like about some Flash, clear identifiable personalities in a full but very short story with a clear beginning and middle and a strong punchy resolution.

Cheers

Mark

Jordan789 at 00:28 on 20 June 2008  Report this post
Ooh thanks all for the kind comments.

Oonah (just noticed how similar to Ooh that sounds, anyhow) I hadn' t considered submitting it. I haven' t really gotten around to seeing if I can market any of my stuff still working on the craft, I suppose. Perhaps one day.

Tania: that is a good point about the eyelids. I need to refine that bit some. Thanks. =)

Elbowsnitch at 06:11 on 20 June 2008  Report this post
' Perhaps one day' - come now, Jordan!

)

<Added>

;)

V`yonne at 13:41 on 20 June 2008  Report this post
Well they don' t pay but BwS is a good place to get exposure and they take pieces inspired by the artwork in the mag. They only take quality stuff too. Consider it...

Jordan789 at 04:52 on 21 June 2008  Report this post
in efforts to maybe follow your advice and submit this, I edited it a bit. Please give another read through and comments are greatly appreciated.

V`yonne at 08:34 on 21 June 2008  Report this post
There' s a hint here of her being like that desert but you don' t quite pin it down... The barreness of the landscape, the suggestion that she might be creative enough to paint it and yet she' s going to watch daytime TV... You seem to be hinting that maybe she' s barren or the relationship is becoming barren and that her dream is symptomatic of that but maybe you could just get it to stand out more. Maybe if you used the word oasis instead of meat and potatoes for instance, that could bring a sence of the desert into their waking life...

This part is particularly strong:
“It was like a scene I remembered from my childhood. A mountain upstate New York that my parents took us to because our uncle had a cabin, and we’d hike in the woods, and there was this area where this mountain chugged across the valley. Otherwise the valley was perfect, with trees and grass and probably a stream, and then this rocky mountain just decided to zigzag across it. Only everything was dead and barren now. Like—really barren. Like Mars barren.”

and this:
the red sky, red desert, red mountains, all so similar in shade and hue, that they were barely distinguishable, as if a sandstorm swirled debris over everything. And then she recalled the past: the green tops of trees below her, stretched out like a model mountain that an old man might put together in his basement, each little tree like a toothpick decorated with green cloth. If the old man were with her, she’d ask how he recreated the texture of those trees

in achieving what I' m getting at. (That' s if I' m right about what you had in mind...) I may be way off...

<Added>

Having said all that, Jordan, I just thought it would be fun if some of you got into BwS with these but I don't know what Don will go for and when it comes to advice, you'd be better sticking with Bill and Prosp and I'll go back to the day job...

Jordan789 at 16:21 on 21 June 2008  Report this post
Well I appreciate your advice because you do have these people publishing a lot of your stuff, and you write damn good stuff. I guess I' m curious if changing a single word will be enough, or if I need something more dramatic to take place, rather than simply hints of it.

<Added>

also, of course, thank you for taking the time to reread and comment!

Inspiration at 14:35 on 22 June 2008  Report this post
Nice piece, Jordan,

a powerful flash - which could possibly be the start of a longer work.

Well, done.

XXXInniXX


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