By Stephen Murtough
I was jogging when I heard it.
“How dare you, boy!” A man shouting.
I turned. A house. The front window was dark, but the shadows twitched.
A muffled scream reached my ears, and I ran to the window and peered in.
A man repeatedly punching a child on a settee. No screaming, just a relentless dull thwack.
I banged on the window. Nothing. So I picked up a rock and smashed the window. The man jumped up, rigid. But the boy didn’t move, he just stared at the floor. So I hit the man with the rock.
Thwack, thwack, thwack.
I enjoyed this vivid scene!
Here’s unsolicited feedback: if a person repeatedly hits another, then the result would be plural sounds (not “a thwack”). …I was confused how the hero hit the man with a rock. Was the window open? How did he reach the man? If he threw the rock, he could not have “thwack, thwack, thwack”-ed him. (Great word choice, ‘thwack’!)
Also, I wondered: what could have resulted from this scene, how could this event have been life-changing for one or more of the characters? …I think the writer presented a scene with big stakes for his characters; I wanted to enjoy reading what he imaged a bigger-picture resolution could be.
Still, I enjoyed reading this. I look forward to reading what this writer does next.
A beautiful word portrait is sketched to call upon sentiments to feel and experience. Stephen, nice it is.