Tags
Creative writing, Depression, flash, Prose, short stories, writing
When they had asked me what he had been like, the man with the knife, all I could say was that I couldn’t really say. He had been, to my mind’s eye, nothing more, or less, than average.
He had stood at average height; not discernibly taller nor shorter than myself. His hair had been worn short, but neither cropped nor shaven, and his eyes, well I could barely remember the colour of my closest friend’s eyes, so that line of questioning drew a blank.
What of the colour of the man’s skin? I could confidently say that he was white, but boasted a tanned face; or had that been a more olive complexion? It was difficult to say with any degree of certainty.
Distinguishing features? He had a knife: a response that solicited a look which could have been annoyance but equally disdain. No, there were none that my sapless mind could recall.
He had been, the man with the knife, nothing more than average. His accessory had been all that made him stand apart. His unremarkableness reminded me only of myself.
In fact he might as well have been me.
There’s a touch of Kafka here, the ‘ordinary’ highlighted to make the impact more discernible and rather sinister, and it’s left to the reader to decide what really happened, or didn’t.
Excellent control, Chris, and fine writing.
Happy New Year!
john
Thank you, John. I hadn’t considered the Kafkaesque undertones, but you are right – I guess that the things that you read never leave you. All the best for the New Year and I look forward to seeing more of your wonderful writing soon!
I like the “form” of this poem, Chris. And the last line comes like a punch to the jaw.
Thank you very much for that, Bruce I’m pleased that you liked this.
I agree with John and also hear the echoes of a the old Russian writers whom I admire so. Excellent piece Chris.
Thank you, Mark, I would be more than happy to stand in their shadow.
Kind of chilling Chris, and yet not, but intriguing. Reads almost like the start of a good book and makes me want to know what’s coming next. Really excellent writing!! 🙂
Thank you, Suzy. I just wanted to try to catch a single moment with the ‘before’ and ‘ after’ open to interpretation, so I’m delighted that you felt that it worked.
Good to see you writing other than poetry again 🙂 It does have that dreamy Kafka pace. It should be read aloud in that monotone way (like Eliot used to do) that leaves us wondering deliciously what is really going on in the narrator’s head…
You’ve got the tone absolutely right, Rachel. Thank you for your thoughtful response and I’m delighted that you liked this.
It’s like a stream of consciousness…loved it… 🙂
Thank you very much, I appreciate you reading and taking the time to comment.
Excellent work, Chris. A teaser that would draw me further in should this be part of a longer narrative. Just the right amount of sinister. How many times have we read or heard of the ‘ordinary’ man who surprised everyone by not exactly being the man next door? Or could he be? How little note we take of the apparently unremarkable.
Oh, I like this little ‘review’, Anne-Marie – I might even buy the book! But, seriously, thanks for reading this and I’m pleased that you enjoyrd it. It was always designed as a stand-alone, and it’s pleasing to know that you felt it worked.
I do imagine it would be hard to focus on the face when the guy is holding a knife 🙂
Thank you. Strangely I hadn’t considered that! I appreciate your feedback.