A Sharp Intake Of Breath
I’d been going there each day at the same time for years. The light would stream through the bars on the window and onto the floor, and there was a kind of peaceful beauty to the space that I liked.
Of course, I also went elsewhere. I’m a believer in not putting all eggs into one basket and it’s the same with Catching A Breath – some days even the most reliable scenes fail you. There’s a tree on Taylor Avenue that’s been pretty good of late and in the toilet in the coffee shop down that same road, on the corner with Green Street there’s an artex ceiling with a hole in it. And of course you can hang around in shadows or hold out for a Blue-Sky Fix but how often do those happen? The clue is in the name! Ha!
But I had a feeling about this place. It used to be a storeroom for the machines when the front of the building was still an amusement arcade. In fact until recently there were a few spots in there that you could still Catch One. Anyway, I kept going back there at the same time each day, unless the weather was bad (for obvious reasons), hoping to get a break. Sometimes there’d be some folks there, usually they were looking for something too but they rarely saw me.
This particular day I was already there when they unlocked the padlock and pulled up the shutters at the front. I could hear the agent talking them through the place, what it had been used for in the past and what some of the others had been considering using it for. You could hear in his voice that he wasn’t really bothered, but he was a professional.
And then I heard the children’s voices and The Breath caught in my throat. The children always saw. Damn this expectation! Raising up my pulse!!
They were coming through the main room, I could hear the woman’s heels against the floor and three children laughing as the agent led them and the two other men into the storeroom. I tried to freeze exactly where I was, practically choking on my Next Breath, willing some kind of control over their eyes and attention even though I knew it doesn’t work like that, waiting for them to catch sight of me.
“Ma!” the girl cried, “do you see him?!” The adults turned and the seven of them looked directly at me, and the seven of them saw me at the same time.
And oh! The sweet release as I finally Breathed again!! And the Cool Air filled my chest with a brightness of Light, of Life. And the world of The Living rushed into me through their sight and I felt The Warmth of the white angels smiling down on me like hot soup sliding down my throat and into my lungs. Oh Breath how I miss you so!
The lady laughed. “Ooh look! He has a long straight nose like the Roman emperor in your book, but he’s wearing glasses! What do you think kids, is that a good sign?”
The agent smiled a genuine smile. “I forget how nice that is, seeing a face in something.”
Not as nice as it is for us, I thought. A taste of Life as we once had. Oh sweet, sweet Breath.
Rivka Jacobs
What an incredibly cool, and original concept! That the “ghost” or the shadow figure not only yearns to live again, yearns for life (the theme of many ghost stories like the film “Poltergeist”) but that those who have passed before us (and who don’t want to move on and accept death) can actually attain a moment of “life,” a breath of life, and there are certain places, and circumstances, where this can happen. At least that’s how I interpret your story!
Another story that could have multiple interpretations, so forgive me if I’ve gotten it *wrong.*
This is also very well-written — there is almost a rhythmic flow to the sentences, like the ebb and flow of waves on a beach. I like how you’ve come up with a new descriptive language, too, for the experience.
Very nice.
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georgelondon
Thanks Rivka. Your comments are always thoughtful and positive and very much appreciated.
As for your interpretation, it was the one I was going for! Specifically that when we see a shape of an animal or a face in a cloud formation or water-stain or shadow, that our attention breathes life into it and allows a spirit to occupy it and ‘live’ for a short while.
I struggled with whether to stick with the Capitalisation thing – I wanted to present our narrator as an addict and although I think the ‘new language’ probably raises too many questions in the reader and maybe even spoils the impact of the reveal. In the end I liked the way it was flowing and so stuck with it, so thanks again! (And I’m now curious about the alternative interpretations!)
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georgelondon
Like here for example – http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/music/music-news/6991925/Liam-Galla ghers-head-seen-in-fireball.html
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Nicolas Papaconstantinou
Blimey… It’s actually quite rare that you see an idea that you have actually never, ever heard before, isn’t it?
Great work on this piece, and I think that you pitched it just right with the Capitalisation and use of the narrator’s personalised language, for the length of story.
It takes a few lines for you to realise that some of these words are being used in a way you aren’t used to, and I don’t know if over a longer story they would start to hurt the reader’s head, or become totally natural, but here they never make the reader anxious, and that’s about perfect.
I’ve got a bit of an obsession with seeing faces in things that aren’t supposed to have faces in. Which pretty much stems from childhood experiences in the house where our grandmother still lives. So this piece struck a note with me!
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georgelondon
Must admit to surprising myself with the idea. When I had it, I had to ask a friend if she also saw a face there once I pointed it out. Felt it kinda hinged on that! (And I really hope everyone else saw it once it had been pointed out!)
As I mentioned, the Capitalisation thing was something I went back and forth on, but the beauty of the deadline (and leaving it til the last minute) is you’re forced largely to go with your instincts.
I think it was a good concept but the style needed to take you to the reveal without distracting you too much – agree that if it were much longer the pace might well have been completely wrong. Glad it felt right to you.
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Cyn
Well this is just perfect, George. I’ll second Nick – never even though about thinking about this concept, this narrator. And yet I kind of love him.
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georgelondon
Like I said, I wanted him to be an addict but I still wanted him to be sympathetic. Even though it was explicit, I think the addiction somehow ended up coming through as an undercurrent (which was weird!) Really glad the empathy came through – thanks!
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georgelondon
Reading it again just now, I think he comes across more as a thrill-seeker than an addict in a dark place. Which I much prefer so am now extra glad I just let it flow!
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