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Violoncello - Comments

  • Hoofbeat

    Hoofbeat (100)

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    Wow, that was very deep, touching at the very least. I love how the beginning was the ending to their story and the description was flawless. The depth of it all made me imagine myself being her, almost crying at the end, thinking it happened to me.

    Excellent work, I look forward to reading more.
    April 14th, 2010 at 02:48am
  • The Way

    The Way (1400)

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    Perfect end. Cry
    Quoting would make me copy the whole thing here, but this is just the most fitting and perfect end for a bittersweet story.
    Like, you portrayed her calm, calm death at the start, and with the flashbacks you went right at the beginning of it all, and closing it with those fatal three words.
    I love this one, Jess. I really do. It has... something.
    March 4th, 2008 at 06:10am
  • astroz0mbie

    astroz0mbie (160)

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    thank you! :hug:
    March 4th, 2008 at 04:25am
  • Hannah Savage

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    It's amazing, really. I adore it.
    March 3rd, 2008 at 08:28am
  • astroz0mbie

    astroz0mbie (160)

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    i chose the cello because i wanted an instrument that one had to really throw themself into.
    i thought about the violin, but i wanted her sitting with a cello, as opposed to standing with the violin. i thought standing would be too awkward. i just pictured her sitting in a dark room.
    March 2nd, 2008 at 07:18am
  • Hannah Savage

    Hannah Savage (400)

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    I love it.
    March 2nd, 2008 at 07:02am
  • The Way

    The Way (1400)

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    She could not taste the sweet wine fill her mouth; it turned to ash at her lips.

    How do you come up with that? It's such stark, beautiful imagery.

    Perhaps, she thinks, it was just what she saw in herself: a new side, a hurt side, a naked side.

    I like the... what's the word? Realization of her vulnerability. She said it in many words but then in the end it all boils down to 'naked, exposed, weak.'

    She wished she could feel him smiling at her, but she didn't.

    She's pining so badly it encompasses so many heartaches in the world. One shred of light can make her day but it's not really darkness surrounding her, but the lack of brightness.

    Grabbing her hand, he pressed his lips to her huge diamond ring, looking past her eyes. She knew he was doing this for show.

    "Gentlemen, I don't believe you've met Elizabeth," he announced. Elizabeth. Not "my wife."

    The littlest things can mean everything. Like how you showed it through him not even acknowledging the fact that she's his wife.

    I think I'm subscribing. Heh.
    -

    And yes, Jess. I do believe in you.

    Also, I wanted to ask: why the cello?
    March 2nd, 2008 at 06:49am
  • astroz0mbie

    astroz0mbie (160)

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    i got the title from an old p!atd blog.
    i don't know what it's of, but i'm pretty sure it's a book.
    it just stuck in my head and i thought of a plot.

    thanks isa.
    alot.
    i mean it.
    you really do believe in me, don't you?
    March 2nd, 2008 at 06:31am
  • The Way

    The Way (1400)

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    Title reminds me of a movie. :)

    A slow, sad whine echoes through the doorways, the scent of burned wood clinging to the purple walls.

    Such a soft, sweet entrance. Mesmerizing and gentle and melancholic.

    Seated upon a simple wooden chair, a woman moves her hands sleepily over a mahogany cello, in the glow of the dead fire. Her eyes are shut, and her mouth is barely open, inviting the warmth into her lungs. There is a passion in her movements: a search for something; a longing for rest, and reason.

    Nothing exists now except her and the instrument in her hand. Back and forth the melody is slow and then swift, over and over. The mess of her hair clings to her forehead and cheeks, and her lips are swollen. Exhaustion sweeps through her body as she throws what is left of her heart into the vibration of the strings.

    There goes your description again. I can't tell how or why, but yours is different, recognizable. The soft and sad quality just resounds in it. I love how you described her playing the cello. As someone who plays the strings, I know the passion needed to pull it off beautifully.

    It was such a roaring pain that shot through her chest as she remembered how she used to see him: utterly handsome and painfully desirable. He had always been that way: beautiful and mannered, dressed in a black suit and hair slicked back. His face was shaped like a Greek statue and his shoulders were broad, full of pride. Youth once blazed through his veins and seeped from his eyes; she remembered how wild they were. It was so fucking gorgeous.

    Only now did she see how ugly he really was.

    Funny how things change so quickly. You captured the traitorous feeling well.

    It was not a shock to hear this; she knew long before he knew, she just didn't want to believe it.

    This line is one of the best of them all. Perfect ending, yet perfect beginning to the memory of their story.

    You still have the magic, Jess. Don't ever let go of it. You have a way with words, you really do. :arms:
    March 2nd, 2008 at 06:21am
  • Violentbumpkin

    Violentbumpkin (100)

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    Wow, you're an amazing writer.
    Love it.
    :]
    March 2nd, 2008 at 05:33am
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