Humid, thick, the air is heavy inside an air-conditioned airport. My black suitcase rolls behind me and my shoulder carries the weight of everything else I couldn’t fit, but have to bring along. The other travelers are all around me, scurrying about from boards to boarding, pulling behind them suitcases much like mine. Ticket counters fill on both sides and a few angry, grounded fliers are countered by vested smiles and hopeful assurances that their plights will be made better. I am not one of these angry travelers. No, I am simply passing through.
I fill my lungs with warm European air and it calms my nerves. Sunshine filters through the tiled, solar-paneled ceiling, and it spreads across the concourse in a soft, soothing array of light and shadow. Each breath warms my blood, and euphorically, delivers me to the edge of reason, and back down the other side, and I wish you would be here to see the things I see.
There is an endless train of reappearing stairs that beckons me to climb aboard, and I accept the invitation. Pressing my hand to the weathered, black rubber that cycles with the steps, I feel like nothing will ever be the same again. Reflecting a blue-eyed smile, a maroon-haired passer by, I’ve the feeling I’ve discovered a beauty that was forgotten; at least for me, the beauty had been ignored and subsequently, forgotten.
Nothing is the same as the feeling of discovery; a moment when experience takes place of curiosity, and the proverbial door is opened for continued exploration. Today, here, I‘ve reopened some forgotten door, and terrified of forgetting once again, I‘m soaking everything in. Regarding the substance and taste, I can smell the walls, I can feel the warmth of the world envelop my soul as pockets of compressed air wave over me on my magic staircase. Expresso and freshly baked bread form an alliance and tease my tongue, and tempt my gut. A tall echo of voices clamors off the white walls and vaulted glass ceilings. I listen for their language and compare it to my own. Silently, I roll my R’s and I mouth the few words I hear and understand.
My suitcase rolls once again, though I feel I’m standing still. Like the earth rotates without me. As though time has allowed me to remain behind, to which, I am obliged. I take it all in, attempting to appreciate all the things I’ve missed.
The sounds, the substance, the sight, the taste, the smell; this life, I am a tourist. We are all simply passing through.
Comments 3
I like the way you have turned an ordinary event into an adventure, an awakening of the senses. I especially love the last two sections. We are indeed all tourists and should take notice or we will miss a lot!
Posted 02 Mar 2010 at 5:59 pm ¶Starting from the top, once again P=Paragraph:
P1: “The air is” could use a little more punch. Try picking a stronger verb like lies/wavers/hangs/drapes/lingers. Same thing with “the other travelers are”. Maybe tangle/mash/stream/swirl/dart? I like how “boards to boarding” sounds, and then it makes me pause. I know what “boarding” is, but what is meant by “boards”? That may just be me and my lack of airport terminology though. Great last sentences. Personally, I’m a big fan of describing a situation, and then throwing in the sudden reversal, like “I am not.” Always get a kick out of it.
P2: I’d switch the active party to the lungs: “My lungs fill”. One thing you have to watch with first person narrative is overuse of “I”, so if there’s an obvious way to switch the action to an object or anyone other than the narrator, go for it. Now here you introduce a second character—“you”. Is this the reader? Regardless, “you” never reappears in the sketch. On that note, I don’t think we get a good idea of *why* “I” wishes “you” was there to observe the scene. Is this particular airport truly so extraordinary?
P3: “An endless train of reappearing stairs beckons” is how I would write it, thereby keeping the tense active. What’s reflecting the image? “I’ve the feeling I’ve”—maybe change the first “I’ve” to “I get”, so it’s not repetitive. Good philosophical angle on the latter half of that sentence.
P4: Nice strong first clause. Actually the rest of that sentence is pretty darn good too, except change “is opened” to “opens”; it’ll sound better with the rest of the sentence. Delete “Regarding…taste”—that’s telling, and the rest of that sentence shows us just fine. “Wave” sounds awkward, so maybe wash/drift/swell? “Tempting” vs. “and tempt”—too many “ands” too close together in that sort of sentence. “A tall echo of voices”: I like it. Don’t know if I like the word “language” there so well. For whatever reason, it sticks out to me, but I’m not sure what to replace it with. Get rid of the “I” before “mouth”. Love the internal action in that last sentence.
P5: “Rolls forward/onward”? Now don’t get me wrong: I really like fragments, but that second sentence (the fragment) sticks out too much. Join it with the following sentence using a comma, and you fix the awkward feel of that third sentence at the same time. Also, I’d swap “as if” for “as though”. Make “This life, I’m a tourist” its own sentence. That makes it pop out more, as I feel it should. Yes, that will eliminate all forms of verbage from the opening sentence. I’m okay with that. As I said before, I really like fragments. Just make ‘em strong ones. Nice, neat wrap-it-up ending.
Final Thoughts:
Posted 04 Mar 2010 at 11:03 am ¶-Wonderful sketch of a tourist in transit, and I really like the philosophical take on enjoying the aspects of life we so often take for granted. That it happens in an airport, a place most people consider an obstacle to be overcome (ooo ooo pick me!), makes it all the more interesting a read.
-What I love about first person narrative is that the writer gets to break a lot of the conventional rules. Basically, the main character converses with the reader so they can say whatever they want, however they want, just like in dialogue. However, I do not *typically* (I can think of a couple of exceptions) like it when the narrating character breaks the fourth wall and addresses the reader directly (ie: “dear reader”). So I think that either the “you” should be eliminated completely and those sentences subsequently reworked, or if the “you” is in fact another character, it needs to become more obvious.
-I’d also like to see a few more concrete details, so that we may form a more precise image of the airport. In a piece that revolves around description, that becomes more necessary.
Overall, I liked this piece. I have one comment to go off of Bridget’s. In regards to the line “and I wish you would be here to see the things I see.” I loved it, but actually wanted more.
Maybe it was my interpretation, but I didn’t feel like the narrator was addressing me, so much as addressing someone he wished was there with him. Almost like he was sending all this in a postcard.
To me, it made the other ideas of the piece (just passing through being the main theme, or not feeling a strong sense of belonging, etc.) make sense.
If this was your intention, I think there just needs to be more. More of a story to go with it, even if it’s only subtly included.
That’s not to say that the descriptions should be sacrificed for story. Your descriptions were better, for sure! But, as always I want more… Try spending as much time as possible describing the setting, people (the ones you can, not necessarily all of them), sights, sounds and smells (that coffee and bread). You can always go back and edit out if you feel it’s become too much.
Posted 04 Mar 2010 at 2:34 pm ¶Post a Comment