myownsatellite's writing

[Johnny]

All right folks, the point of this thread is to get some feedback on this piece of writing that my friend wrote. My friend, lets call them Revan for time being, is a regular user on here and wishes to remain anonymous at the moment. In time and when comfortable enough, Revan will come forward and reveal themselves. So, I ask you kindly to please check this piece of writing out and let Revan know how you like it.



Her Whole

She had a hole in her belly - I liked to put my ear up to it while she laid on her back, her shirt pulled up to just below her breasts, her hands resting lightly in the crease of flesh between her breasts and the rest of her torso. Pale blue skin gave way to blackness - the hole.

I used to walk my fingers over the skin around the dark abyss in her belly, my chin resting on her knees. I would trace the lines that steadily grew from the edge of the hole. I imagined they were caterpillars without the fuzz, crawling their way upward to her neck, downward to her feet.

I loved listening to the hole in her belly - with my ear next to it I could hear city traffic and the singing of the spheres. Sometimes I thought I heard Beatrice urging her Pilgrim onward through the heavens. Hearing the hole made me think of her as my Beatrice, urging this Pilgrim onward through traffic jams and lonely side streets.

There were times when I flirted with the idea of putting a finger inside the hole in her belly - I wanted to know what nothing felt like. She could see my finger itching to push inside her and she would stop me. Nothing is nothing, she would say every time. Nothing feels like nothing. She would guide my head back down to the abyss and tell me to listen, Beatrice of mine.

One day I had my chin on her knees and my fingers on her caterpillar lines. Her hands were folded across her breasts and her hole was gaping. She shivered and sighed, and her hole grew larger. I sat up and saw the blackness absorb her chest, her knees, her neck and her feet.

Her hole had become her whole, and she had passed into nothingness. I touched her then, and concluded that she had been right. Despite caterpillar lines and traffic noises, despite my Beatrice, nothing felt like nothing.

And I was whole.

[saman]

that's really well written. the only thing i can think of changing is the phrase "hearing the hole" at the end of the third paragraph - it sounds a little awkward. even something as simple as "listening to the hole" might have a better ring to it.

your friend is a very good writer.

[crustine]

[myownsatellite]

[myownsatellite]

[saman]

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[Johnny]

[myownsatellite]

[myownsatellite]

[myownsatellite]

[Random Name]

to what?

[myownsatellite]

[Random Name]

[myownsatellite]

[Random Name]

[myownsatellite]

[Johnny]