Another English Creative- Seeking Thoughts

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Another English Creative- Seeking Thoughts

Post by Volksie on 2008-05-24, 08:28

Okay. For this task we had to base a short story on one of the texts we'd studied in class. I chose The Crucible by Arthur Miller for my story and need opinions and any corrections you guys note. As usual, i also need a title.

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Sometimes the weight of the world can be too much.
Like Atlas, the Titan, carrying the world on his shoulders for all eternity. I sometimes think of those old Greek tales my father used to tell me. Of course, my mother would brow-beat him if she caught him. Heathen lies she would call them, and my father would reply that they were just stories. As I grew older I realised that perhaps there was truth in those stories. Just like Atlas, we must all bear the pain of carrying the world, for the world is an evil place.
I didn’t always used to think the world was evil until now. It is true that there is great injustice but I had always believed that natural human goodness would shine through at the end of the day. My daughters had acted as testimony to this. But now I do not have their innocence and purity to help me through these dark times.
More weight.
My childhood memories slip away. Tales of Greek Titans, which I told to my own daughters, are replaced with thoughts of that sunny day, back in England, when I first caught sight of Margaret. I had fallen in love that day, so many years ago, and had gotten married. Perhaps I had been too hasty, for my eye fell on another- my sweet Mary, who had stood faithfully by me half my life- and I followed her across the ocean. Now, nearly forty years later, I wonder what could have been if I had stayed with Margaret in England. Now Mary is dead.
More weight.
Atlas was forced to bear the weight of the world on his back. My father had described to me how Atlas had led a failed rebellion against Zeus and after he had lost it had been his punishment. As I thought about this I had to laugh. The heathen tales, which, out of all the people in Salem, only I knew, continued to echo through my life.
Perhaps I could also be seen to be like Prometheus; having my liver eaten out in punishment over and over again for gifting humans with fire. If only I had possessed one of Prometheus’ greatest qualities; that of foresight. In that respect, I am much more like his brother Epimetheus, who was renowned for his hindsight. So looking back on events now I should weep that I did not possess the gift of foresight. However, for some reason, I only feel like laughing at the hopelessness of it all.
The pain sent my head reeling and I clenched my eyes shut tight. If I were able to throw up I would’ve undoubtedly done so. Instead, my head swam and gradually the pain receded as I sunk into my unconsciousness.
I opened my eyes, not to the sight of Stoughton looking down on me and the dark skies above Salem, but to that of a clear sunny morning. The melting dew of the grass had made my back damp so I climbed to my feet. Spread out all around me was a large open field, bounded on all sides by a low stone wall. In wonderment, I breathed in the refreshingly cool air and smiled.
I heard a female voice call out my name from down near one section of the low wall and I turned to it. A young woman sat on the edge of the wall and waved to me. Squinting to make out who it was, I started to stroll towards her. As I walked the stiffness of my old bones began to fade and I moved faster and faster as I went until I was running through the grass. Recognising the woman I began laughing in joy.
Up ahead of me, I saw the woman laughing too before jumping off the wall onto the other side and running away from me. Picking up speed I leapt over the low wall and called out to the woman that I was coming for her. She tossed her head back towards me and called out something. What it was I could not make out but it did not worry me.
She was running towards a creek and splashed across the water. Reaching the other side, she turned as I entered the water. I made it to the other side and clambered up the bank towards her. Just as I reached the top she touched my chest gently and toppled me back into the water.
I spluttered about until my feet touched the ground and then managed to pull myself up the bank; water pouring off me as I reached the top. The young woman was waiting at the top of the bank and smiled when I caught her at last.
“You put up a poor chase,” she said to me playfully. “If I hadn’t wanted to be caught you never would have reached me.”
I was too tired to speak and, instead, lay down on the soft grass of the bank. The young woman lay down next to me and spent a moment staring into my eyes.
“Will you kiss me?” she said at last. For a moment we kissed and then she broke away, the smile gone from her face.
“How can I be with you?” she asked, a wobble in her voice showing she was close to tears. “You are married and we should not be here.”
I sat up and took her hand in mine. For another moment we looked into each other’s eyes.
“I love you,” I assured her. “But the Lord has blessed me with another, for better or for worse, I must stay with her. Perhaps, one day, we will be together. But not today.”
Our hands parted and a single tear ran down her face. I wiped it away and helped her to her feet.
“One day,” she whispered.
I felt pain again and the memory faded. Desperate to savour its sweet taste I reached out to the woman but my hand was pressed to my side. I tried to call out but no words passed my lips; only a weak groan as air was pushed out of my chest.
“Martha Corey...” the last echo of the memory reached my ears as my third and final love whispered the name she desired so much. I would never see her again.
I opened my eyes to the sight of Stoughton and the dark skies of Salem. A question formed on his lips and, even though I could not hear it, I knew what it was. Ushering the last of my strength my lips moved and my last breath was pushed from my body in the form of two words.
“More weight.”
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Re: Another English Creative- Seeking Thoughts

Post by Kasey on 2008-05-24, 09:35

nice, mysterious but good.

What about "Echoes from the Past"
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Re: Another English Creative- Seeking Thoughts

Post by Seleukos of Olympia on 2008-05-24, 10:43

I haven't read The Crucible, so I'm missing the context for this one. It's rather mysterious, which is something I like, but it feels like it's missing something in the middle. I'm not sure what, and it might just be me in this heat having difficulty processing information correctly.

Anyway, in the beginning of the second paragraph, the phrase "I didn’t always used to think the world was evil until now" looks like you started writing it one way but continued another way, or that there's just a superfluous "d" in "use to think". That's all I can think of right now. I'll try to come up with a title later.

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Re: Another English Creative- Seeking Thoughts

Post by Alexios Komnenos on 2008-05-24, 15:57

I would call it "An essay in communism"
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Re: Another English Creative- Seeking Thoughts

Post by Raja Sagan the Caker on 2008-05-24, 16:14

"Atlas Shrugged" hehe

"Last Thought"

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Re: Another English Creative- Seeking Thoughts

Post by Volksie on 2008-05-24, 16:19

If you haven't read the Crucible it may be a little bit up in the air. It's about Giles Corey, who was pressed to death under large stones for refusing to enter a plea.

Thanks for the tips, Sel.
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Re: Another English Creative- Seeking Thoughts

Post by Tombles on 2008-05-25, 12:49

Well, it sounds Miller-ish, which must be a good thing. Never actually read the crucible, but I have read An Inspector Calls, and I had to do All My Sons for my AS.

One little pedantic thing I'd point out is that "had gotten married" is technically incorrect. 'Gotten' is never correct. Of course, very few people notice, because it's a word everyone uses anyway, but hey.

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Re: Another English Creative- Seeking Thoughts

Post by Volksie on 2008-05-25, 15:21

Cheers!
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