I've been thinking about a writing project while I've been unable to stream and waiting to start my new job. It's still in the outlining and planning stage, but I was hit by some inspiration today so I thought it would be fine to write a short preview for it. I don't normally share my writing outside of close friends. But I wanted to get some actual feedback on how the beginning of the story reads from the perspective of people who don't know the characters as deeply as I (or my writing partner) do.
Enjoy!
Chapter One - Come Tomorrow
If the song of the songbird
Could replace my wrong word
Then, my dear,
That's the song I would borrow
The yellow notes of a twittering bird used to be the first sounds to greet him in the early morning. They would pour into the blackness behind his eyes from the direction of the window, where a bird feeder hung from the branch of the oak tree outside. The east-facing window would let the sun spill through a slit in the curtains onto a path to his headboard. Then, when he finally rose to wakefulness, the light would cut across his eyes so blindingly bright it temporarily vanished the sight of birdsong.
The same sequence of sensations had played out that way for most of his life, making him an early bird. So it was jarring to wake up in his new apartment with none of it. There was instead a whining thrum of of distant traffic, which rose and ebbed unpredictably with the sound of sirens. The apartment's singular window was not shuttered but dark, and would only see the sun when it set. On a floor above, someone loudly shut their front door and began to pace with thick-soled shoes as they spoke aloud to someone. When their footsteps faded away, the background sounds of the city never ceased. Even after rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his sight remained foggy.
William got up to prepare himself a bowl of cereal. He took it to his desk, sitting down to fill his stomach with something familiar. He chewed soggy oats and raisins over and over as he absorbed his actions over the past few days.
Moving to this city was a choice he didn't imagine he had.
"I just don't understand why you can't take on a project that's closer to home," his mother had said. The disapproval coloring her words bruised his chest, but he let no discomfort show on his face.
"The first cornerstone of business is Ambition," he recited in response. "My professor was clear that finding a project outside of my comfort zone would unquestioningly show ambition."
"But the city?" she jabbed, shaking her head reproachfully. "You could look for work one town over. Moving two hours away, and for just one semester, is asking too much!"
His mother wrung her wrinkled hands in the fabric of her apron. She had been since the beginning of that conversation, refusing to look at him as the frustration in her voice darkened and darkened. It didn't make it any easier to bear her reaction to the news he had delivered. Any mother would be disappointed to learn the last year of her son's degree had started with a semester of failed courses. Disappointed even felt too little of a word for it.
"Why?" she had asked in shock. "How? How do you fail every class?" Her eyes only sought him out once to find the answer, before they sought out the only man in the room she could really trust.
His father had gotten up from his seat at the dining table. He had been reading a book, but set it down with a heavy thump when the news came. He didn't speak until his son met his eyes as well, which only took a moment. His father's presence always had an unavoidable gravity even before the weight of his words fell onto him.
"I-I got too comfortable. I didn't try hard enough. I'm sorry, Father," he said, excuses spilling out of him under that gaze. "B-but I've repented. I've spoken to the dean. I have one chance to redeem my degree."
The familiar taste of his family's favorite cereal brand bittered as William remembered that conversation. Remembered how carefully he crafted his words. In the present, he wasn't sure they really softened the hard words that followed, or if they had sharpened them into a finer, more cutting steel. But regardless of how his father had tore into him afterward, they served their most important role. To be convincing.
He could not have made this move without his parents' financial support. Though it came with many strings, just having it in reach was enough. It would not be easy to find a business internship in an unfamiliar place. It would be far less easy while it was not his intended reason for moving there.
Eventually, the soundscape of the city faded from the forefront of his mind. The haze was still there, but not as distractingly. He could read from the face of his watch that it was only a little after 7 A.M. William turned in his chair to eye the diminutive stack of cardboard boxes that waited to be unpacked.
If he took his time, he might manage to spend at least one hour productively today.
.
.
.
And that's it for now! It's definitely different than most of the stories I tend to write. I usually like modern fantasy. But I decided to go a more mundane direction. The themes are more personal. The main character is a "vent character" for me, but maybe that'll make him relatable. I don't expect deep commentary... but I'm just curious if it at least came out interesting!
Signing off!
WAM