This week’s The Red Dress Club prompt was to write on gluttony, one of the seven deadly sins. Fiction or nonfiction, word count of 600 or less. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.
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Downgrading to the tiny one bedroom apartment was devastating. The space, of course, was completely unsuitable for a family of three, but worse was the constant after-hours noise from the strip. At any given time, a fight or blaring sirens could be heard. Not more than a month ago, a gunshot sent Anita and Donovan scrambling for what little cover their tattered couch would provide.
Daytime was no better. Delivery trucks of all sizes roared up and down the narrow street from daybreak to lunch, dropping the next batch of provisions for the scourge frequenting the DuLaney Street pubs.
After the factory shut down, it was the only place Dell could afford. For the last six months, he had been unable to find steady work outside of odd jobs he found in the paper or through his free ad in the Thrifty Penny circular. Anita had Donovan to worry about. He was old enough to go to school, but sending him on this side of town was not an option. She feared the influence of the dealers and skanks he might come in contact with, so she did her best to teach him from home.
“Home…” she had countered Dell with once, “what a goddamn joke… this is what we’ve been reduced to.” She pointed, tears welling, at the mold stain growing in the corner of the ceiling near the kitchen.
“I’m trying, Anita… there isn’t shit left in this town…” he attempted feebly.
The sound of their metal trash cans slamming together startled her and Donovan. She glanced out of the small window in their back door, only to see Dell flailing around on the ground. He cursed—a drunken, incoherent mumble and kicked absently at the toppled can. She dropped her head, shaking it slowly.
“Is is daddy again, mommy?” Donovan inquired.
She sighed.
“Want me to go help daddy to bed, mommy?” His tone sounded disappointed as he leaned against her hip.
“No baby. Not this time. He told me he wanted to sleep outside tonight…” she covered her mouth with her hand quickly.
“Like camping?”
“Yeah…” she bent and hugged her little boy “…like camping.”
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I liked this. I thought the story flowed well and you showed some great emotion: frustration from Anita, regret and shame from Dell…
My only critique: I can’t see the gluttony. I even read it through a couple of times…
Thank you very much!
Gluttony is commonly narrowed to eating in excess, but if you research a little further, even in the Bible it is very closely tied to alcohol abuse and overindulgence. Treating your body poorly in any form or fashion is considered by scholars as a slight on God. The meaning is right there. 🙂
I appreciate the feedback!
I understood the alcohol was the gluttony, however, I see Carrie’s point too. This reads like a scene in a larger work, but I think you could have tightened it up a little more to suit the prompt better. I want to see his gluttony, not just understand. Is the alcohol the reason for their downsizing in housing, or the result? This isn’t really clear.
I’ve missed your stories, glad you are linked up this week. I totally enjoyed this story. I hope to see more of Dell and Anita.
Thank you! It’s good to be back.
The factory closing is what prompted the move. Maybe I wasn’t clear on that as it was only a one sentence explanation. Thank you for the advice! Greatly appreciated!
This is fabulous. I’m drawn in, feel for them, hurt for them, after so few words.
The ending,”camping” is so heart breaking and *exactly* the way it goes. Kids sometimes say things so transparently it just plain hurts to hear.
In other words? Great job!
Thank you so much, Galit. I appreciate the review… Looking forward to your work!
That poor little boy helping Daddy to bed!
Sorry, wasn’t fnished 😉 I could see a little boy walking a sheeping, stumbling Daddy and that hurt. And to be in an are also definied by ‘gluttony’ drugs and alcohol shutting out life… good job.
It does hurt doesn’t it? I could picture it also. Sad but it happens… thank you for stopping by!
Heartbreaking. It was frustrating to read this because I felt like protecting them. Especially the child. Having to grow up in the slums, hardening to the world around him. Well done.
Thank you very much! While it isn’t a ‘nice’ story, I’m glad I could elicit such a response. 🙂
I think that this is my favorite thing that you have written for TRDC. Though I see the point of some of the other commenters here, I did feel that the impact of gluttony reverberated here so loudly that even though this was incredibly short it was shockingly painful to read, I felt it fell well within the prompt guidelines. The simplicity of how you set this scene was really well done. The only thing that might have strengthened it is one or two lines along the lines of her knowing he was drinking, and spending money they didn’t have.
Thanks, Jennifer! Wow. That was a hell of a comment!
I agree with you. It could have used a dash of ‘we don’t have the money for this.’ It’s always been… well, not funny ‘ha ha’ but funny, that it’s usually the down on their luck and broke type that frequent the dive bars most often… Counterproductive isn’t it?