A sudden extra powerful blow from the wind sent the two ribbons down each their street, separated for the first time since they left the beautiful long blond hair of their owner. Almost like lost lovers, they seemed to move around much more violently now, trying to make the other one hear their location, though failing as they own noise overshadowed the noise of the other. One of them flew past a barber-shop, with marble floors that shone like water on a wind-free day. The other flew straight past an empty building with large windows, through which it would had been able to see the other ribbon and the barber shop, had it not lacked eyes and the sense of recognizing.2
At the very end of each street, they merged into one again, and the red ribbons met each other. They touched in the air, as if they were cuddling and kissing. They flew over and under each other, mimicking an obscure mating-dance of an exotic animal that no-one knew about. Like two loving snakes, they rubbed against each other as they continued flying along the streets. Under them was the dry ground, with pieces of paper and broken glass shining in the hot morning sun. A sheet,upon which an invitation to a club was written, tried to join the dance of the ribbons. The sheet however was too moist and not nearly graceful enough, and soon had to give up, landing in a small puddle of spilled red liquid. A flask of wine rolled into a nearby wall, as the ribbons flew by the sheet, promising that they would come back to get it if they got the chance.3
Like the newborn children of dragons, the ribbons sometimes looked inexperienced in the field of flying, though sometimes they looked like graceful ballerinas, dancing across a stage with all the beauty of the world cojoined in a single object or two. These two dancers were unaffected by the blank stares of the dead bodies they flew above. The streets painted in blood below them wanted to soak the ribbons in their lifeless essence, but the ribbons refused to land. As sudden as the plague that had so violently hit the world the previous day, one of the ribbons dropped several feet down. But with little effort, it climbed the wind, and soon gained the height of its soul mate again. Unlike the painless death of their owner, their separation would be intolerable to both. The ribbons needed each other, just as the dead below them would have needed their spilled blood in order to stay alive. Just like blood flowing out of every pore, their separation would mean certain death to the other.4
The same way that every child below the age of two had survived the plague, the ribbons would endure everything, as long as they had each other. The ribbons were unable to think, see, feel and remember, but it wouldn't matter in the end. In the end, all that would matter was that they had once existed. Just like the children of the world, who had survived the plague, the only thing that would matter in the end... Was them, and their existence. They were the only thing that mattered, to each other. 5
Lovers or not, ribbons or not... Like butterflies eating flesh.6
Insignificant to the world, but vital to each other.
Author notes
"Like butterflies eating flesh" might seem like the weirdest line in the text (it does so to me), but it was supposed to be the title of the story (before I wrote it), and so I left it in there =)
Anyone has any suggestions for tags?
A contest entry
- Quick Quickies: Shorties by tallblondie.
210 points, ended July 8, 20 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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that line was kinda weird but, i liked the story any ways looking forward to more from you
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I like this one alot... at first I didn't think anyone died, I thought they all were sleeping or something. Its very good that you told just enough but not too much. I like it


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this is relli good writing...im not too good at criticing(if thats a word lol)
its awesome =D -
Wow, this was something special. This is surely one of the better examples of writing on this web site, you are so elegant with your language and your description is vivid and beautiful. You understand everything you write perfectly, right down the movements of ribbons in the wind. I loved how you had the ability to describe the ribbons in such a personified way yet did not bore or confuse the reader.
I don't know where to start regarding the story twist, not in a million years would I have seen that coming. You introduced it in such a matter-of-fact way... it was awesome. I have to agree, the butterflies line was a little bit odd but the final line really made up for it. What a powerful way to end a brilliant piece of writing.
Really, well done. Keep up the great work.
- CC

. Rewarded 8
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Wow Mads this is nothing like I've ever read from you. You totally went out on a limb here. But you did wonderful. I loved the concept of this.

Great job
Brooke

. Rewarded 4
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Commentary Critique
In paragraph one, line two, the beginning of that particular line just sounded ultra confusing even when read out loud not to mention you did have a few grammatical errors as well. Below is the corrected paragraph:
Two red ribbons flew silently in the wind of the beautiful, calm summer day. In the streets, they also flew through although it was deserted but was filled with items and trash that were witnesses of the lively crowded streets the previous night. Plastic glasses and colorful bottles followed the two down the street from ground level, yet failed to make the same turns the ribbons made. The streets, themselves, were silent and nothing but the thumps from the plastic glasses as they rolled onto stone walls could be head. Occasionally, the two ribbons would hit the walls too, but the wind always managed to get them back into the air- dancing around the streets like so many had done the night before. However, like two butterflies that gracefully swam the air, the ribbons were beautiful to behold although no one did.
Included is the rest of the story's corrected lines....
A sudden extra powerful blow from the wind sent the ribbons down each of their street. Separated for the first time since they left the beautiful long hair of their owner- almost like lost lovers, they seem to move around much more violently now trying to make the other one hear their location. Though failing as their own noise began to overshadow the noise of the other, one of them flew past a barbershop which held marble floors that shone like water on a wind-free day, while the other flew straight past an empty building with large windows- which it would had been able to see the other ribbon and the barbershop, had it not locked eyes and the sense of recognition. [PARAGRAPH 2]
At the very end of each street, they merged into one again, and the red ribbons met each other. They touched in the air, as if they were cuddling and kissing. They flew over and under each other; mimicking an obscure mating-dance of an exotic animal that no-one knew about. Like two loving snakes, they rubbed against each other as they continued flying along the streets. Under them was the dry ground, with pieces of paper and broken glass shining in the hot morning sun. A sheet, upon which an invitation to a club was written, tried to join the dance of the ribbons. The sheet however was too moist and not nearly graceful enough, and soon had to give up, landing in a small puddle of spilled red liquid. A flask of wine rolled into a nearby wall, as the ribbons flew by the sheet, promising that they would come back to get it if they got the chance.[PARAGRAPH 3]
Like the newborn children of dragons, the ribbons sometimes looked inexperienced in the field of flying, though sometimes they looked like graceful ballerinas, dancing across a stage with all the beauty of the world conjoined in a single object or two. These two dancers were unaffected by the blank stares of the dead bodies they flew above. The streets painted in blood below them wanted to soak the ribbons in their lifeless essence, but the ribbons refused to land. As sudden as the plague that had so violently hit the world the previous day, one of the ribbons dropped several feet down. But with little effort, it climbed the wind, and soon gained the height of its soul mate again. Unlike the painless death of their owner, their separation would be intolerable to both. The ribbons needed each other, just as the dead below them would have needed their spilled blood in order to stay alive. Just like blood flowing out of every pore, their separation would mean certain death to the other.[PARAGRAPH 4]
The same way that every child below the age of two had survived the plague, the ribbons would endure everything, as long as they had each other. The ribbons were unable to think, see, feel and remember, but it wouldn't matter in the end. In the end, all that would matter was that they had once existed. Just like the children of the world, who had survived the plague, the only thing that would matter in the end… was them and their existence. They were the only thing that mattered, to each other. [PARAGRAPH 5]
(Paragraph six can be left alone)
This story has some good bones but the structure is somewhat off balance and lacks that 'oomph' for imagery.. Rewarded 8
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Great Imagination!
I am returning the favor, so to speak, thank you for the visit. I scanned down your list of stories and none of the genre hints appealed to me as I neither read nor write in the vein you so proudly advertise. But the "Red Ribbons" in the title attracted my eye and your images kept me reading, well done.
I am going to venture something here, which I am wont to do from time to time when I stumble across talent.
Would you consider, just as an exercise, rewriting your story with the scenery below that of a happy village of healthy prosperous people and children playing, excited by your and a warm spring day with hope abounding?
And take the observant ribbons to a flower strewn meadow where young lovers meet and kiss for the first time and fluffy white clouds, warm friendly sunlight and chittering birds flit to and fro?
So many intelligent, talented young writes are afflicted, as you seem to be, with an unhealthy interest in death and destruction and horror and hopelessness.
They, and you, see the world and life in general as a tragic things, spoiled by the trapping of modern man and the shallow cruelty of the very concept of life and struggle.
Well, friend Drac, that is just the tip of the iceberg, but should be sufficient to key the thought if you are open to it.
Thank you for sharing your work. If you have something on a lighter vein, I would be happy to read that also.
regards...
Amicus...
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this is s really well described tale, but i'm not really sure that I understand the point of it. Then again, not all things need a reason to be; they just are. I like this a lot and you have a lot of talent to be able to describe scenes in such a flowing manner. I would just like to say that maybe you should cut back on the similes, bacause if you have too many, it could take away from the power of the story. Amazing.


. Rewarded 8
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Nice work
A lovely piece. You know in that second to last para if you gave a greater discription of the plague/victims it would provide a powerful contrast to the beauty of the dancing ribbons. just a thought.
And one question occured to me, who will look after the babies if the grown ups are gone? it gives the piece a nice ambiguity over whether the human race survives.
Beautiful as ever.

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Goodness, there's a lot of good description in this... It's an interesting idea. Good quote "Like the newborn children of dragons." Oka, just reachd the part where it talks about them all being dead... kinda creepy, not gonna lie... Interesting and terrifying... I would agree that the butterflies line is the weirdest... you have talent
. Rewarded 6
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I don't think anyone could have done it better. You gave a great sense of lost though not lost eternally here and the depth of this spill seems to echo as I read more and more.
Fantastic write

. Rewarded 4
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Oh my this was so deep and intense..and sickening to some extent the poor loves lost..but you have so given this justice and you should be proud...
It was so heart wrenching and for reasons that are hard to explain...
Love blair

. Rewarded 4
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Easy to picture
Some of the grammar needs tightening up.
Very descriptive.
I can't see how a haemoragic plague that exsanguinated 99% of the world's population could be painless; blond of not.
Some nice twists.
. Rewarded 4











