Writer's challenge #4 - An emotional Scene

Here's the challenge -- no more than three characters, who are initially all happy, or at least not unhappy. During the course of the scene, one of the characters becomes so upset that he or she must cry uncontrollably.

 

And you can't use the words "cry" or "uncontrollably."

Comments

  • “I know why you look so happy, Casper.”
    “So you know, Melinda. What do you know?”
    “That letter you received the other day was not from the Chamber of Commerce, but from a genealogical company.”
    “So?”
    “They have discovered you have inherited a fortune from a distant cousin.”
    “So?”
    “Now that we are rich, we can make plans.”
    “Now that I am rich, I want to divorce you.”
    “What, Abandon me?”
    “I have wanted to abandon you since you turned a veggie. Do you realize what yucky stuff you’ve been serving us?”
    “Oh, Casper, it’s for your own good.”
    “You are a maniac. I am not even allowed to have eggs or cheese!”
    “Why eggs are the symbol of the primordial egg from which the whole universe has hatched!”
    “And cheese?”
    “Cheese is made with milk, and milk is from cows, that are sacred animals in India! Didn’t I tell you?”
    “Are we Hindus? Look, Melinda, I’ll divorce you as soon as can be, and leave you with your disgusting food stuff.”
    “Don’t you love me, Casper?”
    “Now that I think of it, no. I just married you because I had the opportunity. Just to do like everybody else.”
    “I for one love you, Casper.”
    “Your love is like your veggie food – slimy.”
    “Slimy?”
    “Yes, it sticks and has a bad taste.”
    Melinda starts sobbing noisily. Casper wets a finger in her tears. smells it, and puts it on his tongue. Melinda brightens up, and smiles at him.
    “Oh, you are so compassionate, Casper.”
    “Your tears smell and taste like dung.”
    Melinda bursts out crying, and runs out of the house making wild gestures.

  • Good Lord, Jean Paul. That is funny. Edgy stuff.

  • I wanted to write something here, but I'm not sure I can follow this up

  • Mine.

     

    -----

     

    Ethel sat on the hard wood bench in church and bit her lip. Don't cry today, she thought. Don't cry.

    Last Sunday she had had to leave the room to get a handle on herself.

    "I am not sad," she told Andreas who was waiting in the hallway. " I am happy. It's just moving."

    "You are touched?" he said, smiling. His expression somewhere between amusement and surprise.

    "Yes," she responded. "I'm very happy. It's just beautiful."

    It was hard for her to explain even to herself, why the urge to start sobbing in church.

    Father Gregory knelt down, touched his head to the ground and rose again.

    She was fascinated, stared at him. So humble, she thought, to bow in front of everyone.

    She breathed in and out. Lord, please let me not cry. Everyone is watching. They will think I'm sad, or something is wrong.

    Just so beautiful, his words, he's talking about forgiveness, and kindness, and Maria Skobtsova, who died in the place of another. How God is in the face of every person you see.

    Oh, Lord, Oh no, I can't stop it..

    Here they come.

     

     

    (This is the first I've written in two years. Thank you, Skoob, for the challenge.)

     

  • Thanks a lot.
  • Em_press, that's quite emotional.
  • Paul, write. Come on. You are a writer.

  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym ✭✭✭

    "Your love is like your veggie food -- slimy."  

     

    That's great, Jean-Paul. You really hit it out of the park with that line.

  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym ✭✭✭

    Em_Press wrote:

    Mine.

     

    -----

     

    Ethel sat on the hard wood bench in church and bit her lip. Don't cry today, she thought. Don't cry.

    Last Sunday she had had to leave the room to get a handle on herself.

    "I am not sad," she told Andreas who was waiting in the hallway. " I am happy. It's just moving."

    "You are touched?" he said, smiling. His expression somewhere between amusement and surprise.

    "Yes," she responded. "I'm very happy. It's just beautiful."

    It was hard for her to explain even to herself, why the urge to start sobbing in church.

    Father Gregory knelt down, touched his head to the ground and rose again.

    She was fascinated, stared at him. So humble, she thought, to bow in front of everyone.

    She breathed in and out. Lord, please let me not cry. Everyone is watching. They will think I'm sad, or something is wrong.

    Just so beautiful, his words, he's talking about forgiveness, and kindness, and Maria Skobtsova, who died in the place of another. How God is in the face of every person you see.

    Oh, Lord, Oh no, I can't stop it..

    Here they come.

     

     

    (This is the first I've written in two years. Thank you, Skoob, for the challenge.)

     


    Well done! Very well done.

     

    It makes me wonder who is Maria Skobtsova, and how she came to die in the place of another. Excellent.

     

    You really must begin writing again, Em_Press. It is clearly what your heart wants to do.

  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym ✭✭✭

    Keep it together, He thought. You can't fall apart. You can't.

     

    He shifted in the hard seat, blinking at the cold, bright fluorescent lights. It felt cold, even though he knew the night was warm. Still, a chill hung in that place; a chill that neither lgiht nor heat could completely dispel. It seemed unreal, this place, this circumstance. How could this happen?

     

    The doctor came through the door. He seemed too young, too uncertain. Too scrubbed and bright and thin to be real, to be substantial, to know what must be done. The news could not be good.

     

    Seeing him, the doctor sat down beside him. Oh, this could not be good at all; doctors sit to console, never to share good news. Placing one hand on his shoulder, the doctor smiled a wry smile.

     

    "Your wife will be fine," he said.

     

    Tears came as from a dam bursting within him. He clutched the white coat and sobbed into it.

  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym ✭✭✭

    I just realized that I might have broken one of my own rules. I'll disqualify myself this time.

  • Thanks a lot, Skoob_Ym.

  • Skoob_Ym a écrit :

     

    "Your wife will be fine," he said.

     

    Tears came as from a dam bursting within him. He clutched the white coat and sobbed into it.


    To me it implies by antiphrasis that the husband is doomed. Is that the case?

  • Alright, I'm going to cheat a little too, as this is not something I've written fresh, but a cut from the novel I'm currently working on:

     

    "He knew exactly what was stuck in his throat. Those dangerous three words. He fought them, tried to force them out or force them away. But they preserved, hanging there, expectant. Angry still, Mason fought for control. No pain would intrude, no self-doubt would shatter his resolve. This was a moment for good feelings, and he would not allow it be sullied by his own issues. Not this moment. This was for him.

     

    With an effort, he managed just that, retaking himself and wrestling control from the crouching beast inside. No pain, no anger, no regret. Everything was one and whole and good, and he could live with this moment forever. Snow wafted from above, trees swayed gently on the chill night air. Their breath hung around them, and Mason fixed the moment in his mind. Happiness.

     

    Do it, his inner voice screamed. Tell her. He swallowed hard and blinked away a snowflake on his eyelash. “I was thinking about you. About how you make me feel.” She smiled up at him. “I was thinking about how much I…”

     

    The first blow didn’t really hurt. Mason was used to pain, pain and him had a deal. He stopped talking and flinched, but didn’t sag or even turn. From somewhere a long way off, a horrible sound assailed his ears. It hurt worse than any blow ever could. The second and third, while still not registering as pain exactly, threw him forward toward Helen. He engulfed her and rolled to the ground, shielding her with his body. Someone was making a very lot of noise, high and screeching, tearing through his abruptly sore head. As they fell to the ground, Mason knew it was Helen making that horrible sound."

  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym ✭✭✭

    potetjp wrote:

    Skoob_Ym a écrit :

     

    "Your wife will be fine," he said.

     

    Tears came as from a dam bursting within him. He clutched the white coat and sobbed into it.


    To me it implies by antiphrasis that the husband is doomed. Is that the case?


    No, I meant it to suggest that his relief is so great he cannot hold back his emotions.

     

    That would be a cruel doctor, to tell him by irony that he is dying.

     


  • Skoob_Ym a écrit :

    That would be a cruel doctor, to tell him by irony that he is dying.

     


     No, the doctor is not a cruel man. He can see the husband is dying, on the brink of deliriousness, and science can do nothing to save him; so he finds it more important to relieve him from his anxiety about his wife, while readers like me have the poetic privilege of guessing the truth.

      At least, had I written this piece, I should have exploited this vein, and, to add even more pathos, I should have made the wife pregnant  and at term (he was rushing her to the maternity), to have the husband hear "your son is born alive and strong, congratulations", at which he would exclaim "Theosozon" - mistaken for a religious expression by the doctor and the nurse - then give up the ghost, his face expressing undescribable ecstasy.

      Later we'd learn from the widow that months before this double event, during holidays in Greece, they had been prophesized by a clairvoyant that they would have a son, and that this son would be saved from death at birth by a special decree of God because he would free the Western World from the oppression of barbarians, hence the suggested forename, Theosozon, whose meaning they only understood when they met a Harvard scholar of Classical literature And so on, and so on  Smiley Happy

  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym ✭✭✭

    potetjp wrote:


     No, the doctor is not a cruel man. He can see the husband is dying, on the brink of deliriousness, and science can do nothing to save him; so he finds it more important to relieve him from his anxiety about his wife, while readers like me have the poetic privilege of guessing the truth.

      At least, had I written this piece, I should have exploited this vein, and, to add even more pathos, I should have made the wife pregnant  and at term (he was rushing her to the maternity), to have the husband hear "your son is born alive and strong, congratulations", at which he would exclaim "Theosozon" - mistaken for a religious expresion by the doctor and the nurse - then give up the ghost, his face expressing undescribable ecstasy.

      Later we'd learn from the widow that months before this double event, during holidays in Greece, they had been prophesized by a clairvoyant that they would have a son, and that this son would be saved from death at birth by a special decree of God because he would free the Western World from the oppression of barbarians, hence the suggested forename, Theosozon, whose meaning they only understood when they met a Harvard scholar of Classical literature And so on, and so on  Smiley Happy


    I must say, you certainly plow very deep. Smiley Happy

     

    Paul, I would say that he and pain had an arrangement, unless "pain and him" is an indication of the protagonist's thought process or normal mode of speech.

     

    It's a very dark story line, certainly; a man well-acquainted with pain, and the woman to whom he is proposing, being assaulted in a public place -- a sniper?

  • Thank you, Skoob. I must. It's always on my mind.

  • Holy Mother. That is excellent, Paul.

     

    Helen....is she dead? What a beautiful scene. In such a short space it made me care about the characters.

  • Skoob, it's great. To requalify yourself all you'd have to do is replace "sobbed" with "folded." Or "doubled over."

  • They're actually being mugged, and the protagonist was disfigured years before in a fire, resulting in chronic pain (hence the acquaintance with pain).

     

    I appreciate the note on the wording, I think you're absolutely right about how it should be an arrangement, even though there is a fair amount of the protagonist thinking (provided through narration), the way I have it now doesn't actually fit as well with his normal way of vocalizing or internalizing. Thanks! 

     

    It is a little dark, darker than I realized when i pasted it in here. I suppose the entire story is kind of dark. 

     

    Maggie, Helen, sadly, does not survive much longer in the story.

  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym ✭✭✭

    It was just something that jumped out. A mugging was actually the first thing I thought though the absence of a visible assailant made me wonder.

     

    Great scene. Powerful.

  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym ✭✭✭

    Em_Press wrote:

    Skoob, it's great. To requalify yourself all you'd have to do is replace "sobbed" with "folded." Or "doubled over."


    I disqualified myself because they were not all initially happy. The man is in torment, waiting to hear the results.

     

    But thank you.

  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym ✭✭✭

    EM_Press or Jean-Paul, one of you should make the next challenge.

     

    If you would like to, and have the time....

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