Thelma Dudley

I know this is coming a little late, but I wanted to post the changes I made to Thelma Dudley.

For years Thelma Dudley has lived in a small, two bedroom, long cabin on thirty acres of woods in upstate New York. From her kitchen she sees the surrounding mountains, trees and land that her husband, George, builds houses on. In her spare time, which is all the time, she sews doll clothes and sells them at the local flea market, about a mile away set on the banks of Lake Serenity. George and her love to make the trip to the flea market every weekend since it is really her only time to socialize with anyone other than the animals she may encounter in the woods. There are times that her children will stop by, but since they are in college it is very rare. She wonders how they are doing, since they are all separated for the first time to three different schools, NYU, Brown, and U Mass. Going from a house full of eighteen year old boys to just her and George is still hard on her. She is trying to adjust to making smaller meals, and a lot of time just resorts to TV dinners because it makes her sad to make the boys’ favorite meals: her famous chicken fettuccini, meatloaf and pork chops with apple sauce. She thinks that maybe she should join a club or group, maybe one at her church or something, but decides against it since she really enjoys her time at home. It also helps that at the moment she can’t really get around anywhere since she broke her ankle trying to rearrange the furniture in the living room; the twenty year old, olive green couch just didn’t want to move. George comes home periodically to check on her and make sure she isn’t trying to do anything out of the ordinary, like the other day when she tried to take a walk in the snow with her crutches.

Whippoorwill

I enjoyed the story, but there are some issues I had with some parts of it. On the first page there is no explanation as to why the mention of a girlfriend is the "kiss of death". Also I wish it was clearer as to why the narrator was hitching back across the country and why he had gone across the country in the first place.

On the second page there is an issue I have with the section about Gabe "romancing" the narrator and the feeling of "intimacy". Is this something the narrator wants or does he just suspect it? What role does this really play in the story.

The last issue I have is on the fourth page when the discussion of drugs comes into play. What does this have to do with the story. It only seems like it is there to segway into a random back story about Gabe.

There were also things I like about this story. I thought it was really well written and a lot of the word choices were very unique. In the first paragraph there is the sentence that says, "as light and hope were draining from the day." This is such a different way to describe nightfall that really caught my attention.

Also on page five, the whole paragraph about the crooning is so out of character, but it fits in the story so well and describes Gabe in a different light than the reader has previously seen. It was a nice touch to the story.

Bank Heist

I walked into the building, took one look around and knew what I had to do. There was no choice for me; I was behind on almost all my bills and there was no way I was going to give up my new car. I went into the bathroom and put a ski mask over my thick, black hair. All anyone would be able to see are my grey eyes.

I will walk up to the tellers of the bank, passing everyone in line, but no one will complain. They will know what is coming next. I will ask for all the money, threaten everyone with a gun, and try not to get caught. It is the perfect plan.

I begin to execute my plan after giving myself a little pep talk in the bathroom. “You can do this,” “It has been done before,” “Let’s get that money.” All of these began to run through my head as I bolted out of the door and began to yell at everyone to do as I say. There were women screaming, actually it was more like squealing, and trying to comfort crying children. The men wanted to protect the women, and the tellers were like sitting ducks.

It was one of those really personable banks, there wasn’t any plated glass and it had a very open atmosphere. It was one of those banks where everyone knew each other because it was in that kind of town.

I ran up to the tellers and demanded all the money they could give me. One girl was a tears the whole time she was trying to do as I said. The rest of them were surprisingly calm, and I was watching them like a hawk to see if they hit any alarm. Good thing they never thought this would happen to them and had never used it before and didn’t even think of it.

What a place! They don’t use their alarm system when they are being robbed, everyone complies with what I say; this is too easy. “There has to be some sort of catch,” I think to myself. But I can’t pinpoint it. I continue on my raid of the bank, then haul ass out of there. I jump into my brand new Mercedes and speed off, feeling like I had just gotten away with murder.

But on the road something is wrong. Everything looks distorted and it seems like everything is collapsing around me. I lose control because of the visions and my car is headed straight for a tree. When I impact, I wake up in a cold sweat. I look at my phone to check the time, because the sun isn’t even up yet, and can’t help to think how real that whole dream seemed. As I pick up my phone I see there is a message; a picture of me in the car with the ski mask.

It is way too early for blackmail.