Denial (er... a short story, I guess)

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Pre-exam insomnia kicked in, and this was the result. Not great, I know, but still, I'm looking forward to all your opinions (whatever they might be )

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Denial​

As usual on a Tuesday afternoon in mid-April, the city park was empty. There were no dogs (or their owners), no children, no old people playing chess. Just silence and the low murmur of the river flowing by. Perfect.

This was exactly why he liked to walk the long way home on Tuesdays, instead of taking the bus. Being alone was a welcome respite after a busy day in the office. No people. That was important.

...and that was why the sight of a woman walking through the grass and holding a little girl's hand made him less happy than he was a moment before, when he believed himself alone in the green haven. The woman paid no attention to him. She went to a bench and took a seat, while the child continued to run around and play with flowers and leaves. The woman seemed tired, worried. Her hair was neatly collected in a bun, and her dress gray, almost devoid of colour. In contrast to her, the child seemed so happy, that the man smiled to himself. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be a child.

He continued his walk and took a sit on a bench not far from the mother and the girl (since the pair was occupying his favourite spot in the park anyway). He spread his newspapers, but found it difficult to focus on them, as the child kept laughing... merrily and loudly.

"Mother, Mother...why is the sky blue?" - The man couldn't help but overhear the little girl asking, slightly out of breath.

"It is the colour which dissipates best on the Earth's atmosphere, dear." - replied the woman, and he couldn't help but wonder at the reply, hardly suited for a four year old, and the girl certainly wasn't older than that. The child, however, went on.

"Mother, what is thunder?"

The man thought of colliding clouds, of heavenly beings driving around in their carts, of hidden drums... but again, the woman said:

"Discharge of electricity disturbs the molecules of air, and this is observed as sound, a mechanical wave."

Now the man was completely puzzled. He forgot all about his newspaper, and focused on listening.

"Mother, look, a ladybug. Hello ladybug, will you bring us guests?"

"Honey, it is an insect and it is unable to understand you. Insects don't speak."

The little girl paused for a moment, then continued to play with the flowers. The child's hair was dark and curly, its eyes green and soft. To the man, it seemed a personification of innocence and yet, question, after question, the woman poured reality on it, in cold, unemotional words of adults.

"Mother, if I were to walk to the end of the world..."

"There is no such thing, dear. Earth is a sphere."

Wind played with the child's hair, and it laughed happily.

"Mother, how come birds fly, and people don't?"

"Birds have wings, darling, but humans fly too. In aero planes."

"But..."

"I think we've walked enough for today. Come, let's go home."

The woman took the little girl's hand and started walking down the path. The man watched them as they walked away, the woman, pacing slowly and seriously, and the child, hopping around. He watched until he could no longer discern the little girl's white dress from the blur of the horizon, and then he went back to reading his paper. He felt sorry for the little girl, although he wasn't sure why.

******

Days gone by. Week after week the man walked through the park, and week after week the mother and the girl were there too, but he was never again close enough to hear what they were saying, nor did he ever try to approach them, or talk to them. He got used to their presence, and so, in mutual silence, summer came, in all the golden glory of it's long, lazy days.

*****

Again, it was Tuesday, and as usual, the man found himself walking the familiar path in the park, all alone.
When he came near his favourite bench, he heard laughter, and like every week before since April, he saw the little girl playing in the grass. This time, however, she was accompanied by an old lady, with silver hair and wrinkled face. The old woman was smiling and siting on the bench, on the exact same place where the mother always sat.
This time, the man had already read his newspaper at the office (as it was a slow day, with barely a customer or two) and had no real reason to go through the park, except habit. So, he didn't stop to sit near his favourite bench. Instead, he just went by, with a curious look at the old lady.
Too curious, it seems, for she looked right at him.

"May I help you?" - the old woman smiled warmly. Her eyes glistened like stars.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare.." - words stumbled somewhere in his throat, as the woman kept gazing at his face.
"I was just surprised to see you sitting there. Usually the girl's mother sits there and..."

"Oh, so you know Celest... Poor thing."

He was going to say that he doesn't know her and that he has never even spoken to her, but the saddened look on the old woman's face changed his mind.

"Why do you say that? Has something happened?" - his eyes wondered to the place where the little girl was playing, right on the river bank. Too far to hear them talking, probably.

"She's taken ill, I'm afraid. We had to bring her to the hospital."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It couldn't be helped... but a shame, yes. She used to be the happiest of us." - the old woman looked at the girl, who picked flowers and threw them in the water.

"If I may ask... and I hope you will not think me rude for it, but... why did she, why did Celest, insist on teaching her little girl of the world as it is? Why didn't she let her believe in fairy tales?"

The old woman looked at the river, at the sky and the setting sun. At last she looked back to the man's face.

"It was denial, I suppose. A common symptom with fairies who've given up their wings."

"I...see."
The man wondered if his hearing was failing, or was the woman senile. He settled on the latter.

Just as he was about to continue walking down the path, back to his home and his ordinary life, he heard the little girl laughing. He turned around.

"Look what I can do, grandma!"

Waving its beautiful butterfly wings, the child was flying over the river, throwing flowers into the waves.

 

Nice Liked it. You could write over the whole thing a few times and make it a little longer, fiddle with a few things...the idea's good, but in few places you could build up the "suspension" (for a lack of a better word...) before the expositions...

 

I agree. It was a good idea and not as bad as you make it out to be at the start.

However, some more description inserted would have helped 'flesh-out' the piece. As an example, perhaps include another one or two of the man's senses as he walks through the park. He could perhaps smell freshly cut grass (which could have additional significance if you so desired), or tilted his head back to let a gentle breeze blow over his face- a pleasant sensation after sitting in an air-conditioned office all day! Just a couple of initial thoughts for you.

 

Thanks for the advice and your opinions guys.

This was, as stated earlier, purely a work of insomnia, and I didn't really plan to post it, but once it was done, I thought, "oh well I might as well do it".

I might fix it at some later date (three exams coming... so who knows? )
It needs work, that's certain.

Thanks again for advice and opinions.

 

Well worth a night of insomnia!

I'd have to disagree with Decados here and suggest even LESS description and exposition, since the pace feels best when you have the quick dialogue between the mother and daughter...but I always get into trouble for including too little detail, so probably better to go with Decados here.

I think you can tighten the ending if you lop off the three lines starting with "I... see." -- so that right after the grandmother brings up that she comes from a family of fairies, you jump immediately into the girl flying by, so the reader doesn't have a chance to process the information.

If you have more insomnia during those three exams, you could slip a second twist into your story, right after you've surprised the reader with the fairy-revelation. Like, you could have the grandmother or man say something too-practical and un-fairy-taleish, and it causes the girl to stop flying; or perhaps it turns out that the man once had wings too; or the girl flies by nonchalantly and asks her grandma, "Why is the big dog talking to us?", and the grandma could say, "Dogs can't talk, dear," and then the girl stops flying and we realize that the narrator has actually been in denial all this time that he's a stray dog and not actually a human (this would work if you trimmed the very few times you have the narrator say something out loud); or you could...

...uh, on second thought, it's already a good story, don't let me tamper with it!

 

Wow Grey, you're great at this.

Thank you for your opinion and advice.

 

I was all intrigued by the story, but the whole ending is just not in my tastes. It was written well, I just wasn't thrilled by the reason for Celeste's honesty... I was hoping for something bigger, and well, less fairy-taleish. That's just me though... and I DID like the writing.