/lit/ - Literature

I did this at first with The Plague. Just wasn't feeling it. Then I realised it was only like 300 pages and I should just get on with it. The later half of the novel touched me deeply and directly led me to volunteer and help emergency services when Covid first hit, rather than remain in the comfort and safety of my home.

I say this not to score brownie points with anonymous strangers on the Internet, but to show that a book I had intended to discard forever ultimately led me to make one of the few truly selfless decisions, based upon principle rather than comfort, of my selfish, mean, conceited life.

Make of that what you will, and ask yourself, if there are only a couple hundred pages left, whether you might not spend an extra 2-3 days finishing it off anyway.

>I wrote this short piece using this image as inspiration. I'm going to post a few more images that I think are pretty interesting that could inspire some other small stories.
>Critique and feedback are welcome, and feel free to post your own pictures as well.

Part 1 of 2

She first introduced herself to him as Sophia. On their first date Charlie noticed that although she was almost his height, she still had to stand on her toes to kiss him. Under the linen dress she often wore, her olive complexion spilled out and reflected the evening sun like gold. Long streams of auburn hair fell from her head in loose curls. It was getting thicker these days as it had stopped falling out in their shower about a month ago. She was not yet showing, but she was pregnant again. At least their doctor thought so.

Most days, Sophie also wore her hair up with a thin white ribbon tied in a bow, a bow which most days, Charlie would try to pull loose. What started as an occasional tease, developed into an elaborate game, the few unspoken rules established between them over many years. The game was always as follows: Charlie would see Sophie and approach her like a knight would lancing. He always tried to keep a natural yet brisk pace, appearing preoccupied and busy to throw her off. Only when she wasn’t looking would he reach out to pull the knot loose. But overtime, Sophie rarely neglected to keep a part of herself ready when Charlie approached this close. Sohpie’s role being to dodge his attempt with a movement as slight as possible, only shifting away at the last possible second. More times than not, Sophie won. On many occasions avoiding him with a laugh while she was hanging laundry by the river or playing with their son, Jack. One time, near the end, it was quiet and Sophie swayed on their porch swing by herself watching the leaves of grass curl back and forth against the wind like waves, Charlie had snuck up behind her. The image of Sophie turning to face him, already laughing, and the bow slipping through his fingers still fastened, would stick in his mind, forever.

She first introduced herself to him as Sophia, but he calls her Sophie now. She's almost his height, but she still has to stand on her toes to kiss him. From under her usual linen dress an olive complexion spills out, barely tan from glowing in the evening sun. A few freckles dot her blushed cheeks and warm smile and two long streams of auburn hair flowed in loose curls, framing her delicate face and amber eyes. Her hair was getting thicker as it had stopped falling out in their shower about a month ago. She was not yet showing, but she was pregnant again. At least their doctor thought so.

Most days, Sophia wore her hair up with a thin white ribbon tied in a bow, a bow which Charlie often tried to pull loose. What started as an occasional tease, developed into an elaborate game, the few unspoken rules established between them over many years. This game was always as follows: Charlie would see Sophie and approach her like a knight lancing, but kept a natural yet brisk pace. He also tried to appear preoccupied and busy to throw her off, only reaching to pull the knot loose when she wasn’t looking. But Sophia often noticed, her role being to dodge his attempt with a movement as slight as possible, only shifting away at the last possible second. More times than not, Sophia won. Avoiding him with a laugh while she was hanging laundry by the river or pulling clean water from their well. Even when it was quiet and she swayed on their porch swing by herself, watching the leaves of grass curl back and forth against the wind like waves, she could slip his hand.

Both Sophia and Charlie understood that he was only allowed one ‘attempt’ per day, and if successful or unsuccessful, he was unable to try again. This one chance determined who of the two would be the victor for the entire rest of the day. Charlie had sworn never again to lie to Sophia, but oddly enough the couple never once uttered a word about their game to each other. Charlie convinced that he would only upset Sophia by bringing up his large lead in points.
Sophia never mentioned the game to Charlie for exactly the same reason, but was in fact the one with the actual lead in points, as Sophia kept a detailed count in a small teal diary hidden under her nightstand.

After her funeral, Charlie found the diary while his two children were moving out some furniture. Until the end of his life, he would read a few pages every night before we went to bed, making sure not to lose his place with a small white ribbon, as a bookmark.

>looking for crit, trying to embellish a character description into a mini story.

She first introduced herself as Sophia, but now he calls her Sophie. She's almost his height, but she still has to stand on her toes to kiss him. From under her usual linen dress an olive complexion spills out, barely tan from glowing in the evening sun. A few freckles dot her cheeks, which blush over a warm smile. Two long streams of auburn hair float in loose curls, framing her soft amber eyes. Her hair was thick as she was pregnant again. At least the doctor thought so. She was not yet showing.

Most days Sophia wore her hair up with a thin white ribbon tied in a bow, a bow which Charlie often tried to pull loose. What started as an occasional tease, developed into an elaborate game, the few unspoken rules established between them over many years. This game between them was always as follows: Charlie would see Sophie and approach her like a knight lancing, but trying to keep a natural yet brisk pace. He also tried to appear preoccupied and busy to throw her off, only reaching to pull the knot loose when she wasn’t looking. But Sophia often noticed, her role being to dodge his attempt with a movement as slight as possible, only shifting away at the last possible second. More times than not, Sophia won. Avoiding him while she was hanging laundry by the river, pulling clean water from their well, or even when she swayed on their porch swing, watching the leaves of grass curl back and forth with the wind like waves.

Both Sophia and Charlie understood that he was only allowed one ‘attempt’ per day, and if successful or unsuccessful, he was unable to try again. This one chance determined who of the two would be the victor for the entire day. Charlie had sworn never again to lie to Sophia, but the couple never once uttered a word about their game to each other. Charlie convinced that he would only upset Sophia by bringing up his large lead in points.

Sophia never mentioned the game to Charlie for exactly the same reason, but was in fact the one with the actual lead in points, Sophia kept a detailed count in a small teal notebook hidden under her nightstand.

>crit me, idk, used the photo as a prompt.
>just trying to weave plot and personality into mundane character descriptions.

>>14350102

I won't lie, that hurt. But that's okay, because I understand that you're coming from a place of frustrated anger and it's not your fault. Rest easy, buddy. Good night!