Bert was entering Dr. Carneival’s House of Freaks when he was snatched from behind. Now, he laid upon a surgical table surrounded by severed birds’ heads, pigs’ ears, and gators’ tails; the remainders of their bodies hung above his head. A lamp came on and glinted off jars of frozen eyes, while hands like chicken claws placed a row of knives and needles near his fingers. His trembling fingers stretched towards them, but his hand would not follow.
“No point tryin’,” an old voice laughed.
The hands clutched his eyes open and a woman’s face like melted candle wax appeared; eyes that poked sideways swiveled over his face, resting for a moment on his eyes.
“I don’t wanna die” He croaked.
“If you was gonna die, then you’d be dead.” The woman placed one of the jars beside the table. The eyes bobbed up and down in their gray liquid, each pupil burning a hole into his skin. She threaded the biggest needle and jabbed it into an eyeball, squishing gray liquid everywhere. He tried to sit up; he tried to run; but his head just rolled side-to-side.
“Don’t worry,” the woman patted his cheek. “I’ve done been through four jobs afore this one, and I can ‘sure you, this pain won’t be nothin’ to what you already feelin’.”
It was his own fault. Bert had been swayed by blind ambition, lured by Carneival's promises of riches; of never again having to beg for money. And his exit had been dramatic:
Today's show was brought to you by the letters "F" and "U", and the number two million dollars!
But no one walks away from PBS.
Bert heard a sound. A scuffle at the edge of his vision. A familiar figure approached the table.
"Ernie?"
"Yes, Bert, it's me. You can never leave, you know. And once Lydia here is finished, you'll never again be tempted to have some other guy's hand up your ass."
Opening: Anon......Continuation: anon.
8 comments:
Unchosen continuations:
As the woman grabbed a none-too-sharp knife and started to cut into Bert's face...
Eliza Miffle grabbed the remote, rushed past her two-year-old, and wondered what the hell PBS thought they were doing, putting Behind The Scenes at the Creature Shop as an extra on Sesame Street's Happy Holiday DVD.
--anon.
As Bert drifted into a reverie halfway between terror and drug-induced nausea, a florid curtain to the side of the table swished open in a blur.
A respectable looking bespectacled woman appeared, brandishing a hockey stick.
The old woman bowed low, then turned to the emerging film crew. "Ok, Ms Palin, he's all yours — but try not to roll your eyes too wildly till we get to voiceover about him being a wishy-washy liberal..."
--Whirlochre
Not sure what age level this is aimed at, but I don't think it's adult.
The writing is a bit of a mess: laid instead of lay in the second sentence, and lots of unnecessary word repetitions and awkward sentence constructions throughout. And then there's this paragraph--
The hands clutched his eyes open and a woman’s face like melted candle wax appeared; eyes that poked sideways swiveled over his face, resting for a moment on his eyes.
--which makes absolutely no sense to me. Hands clutched his eyes open? What does that mean? Eyes that poke sideways? And they swivel over his face and land on his own eyes? Is this meant literally? Or is it just way over-the-top metaphorical description? I can't tell.
All those continuations were amazing! I laughed till my sides hurt. There was an unintended correlation to Sesame street. Herbert might be better. Though, to me, that sounds like an old man.
You didn't have to shorten the first sentence as much as Hannah Rogers did to make it fit into a tweet.
Besides the lay/laid problem, P4 needs a comma and "He" uncapitalized.
P3: If his eyes weren't open how was he able to describe the scene? I assume the hands clutching his eyes open are the hands like chicken claws, but his own hand was mentioned more recently.
Is the old woman sewing new eyes into his eye sockets? If so, are his old eyes currently in those sockets or currently nearby watching? It wouldn't hurt to clear this up earlier, before you lose us.
I have had trouble with this piece because I am submitting it for flash fiction and my word count on it has to be 350. The trouble is clarity and the sentences having better flow to them.
Thanks Beth for pointing out that paragraph and the repetition. I can take out some of the repetition with the fingers, but I like the repetition with the eyes. What I am trying to say with eyes that poked sideways are eyes that point in two different directions and one of them wanders around.
EE, the hands that are clutching his eyes open are the claws. His eyes are open and still in his head. What I intended was she clutched his eyes open to keep him from blinking, something akin to those machines in Lasik surgery. You're spot on with him getting new eyes sewn on.
I didn't notice that I had mentioned the boy's hand and then the claws and didn't try to clarify whose hands were clutching his eyes open.
I have lots of clarifying to do. Thanks!
What I am trying to say with eyes that poked sideways are eyes that point in two different directions and one of them wanders around.
That, I can visualize. Why not just describe it that way?
As to "clutch," I think you're wanting a different verb there. Clutch means to seize or hold tightly to something. You clutch someone's hand. A woman clutches her purse.
Maybe she pries his eyes open.
Why don't you open with "Rough hands snatched Bert while he entered Dr Carnivals House of Freaks."
Then go on to the table he wakes on and the animal parts.
That would free up a few words.
Also, you might try first person to free up more words.
I want to be with Bert. I want to know what he's thinking/feeling. What I'm getting is the narrator's description of the scene and not Bert's experience of it. I think that would make it stronger.
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