The ring of falling metal outside the grocers on High Street made the queuing customers aware of a happening in the road. The screeching of brakes and the single scream that followed, underlined the fact that the “happening” was ongoing. By the time most people in the grocers and the adjoining shops had pushed their way outside to look, the scene had been set.
First impressions were horrific. From under the front of a double decker bus, all anyone could see, was parts of a bike with a boy’s legs and feet outstretched like a snake’s forked tongue. The boy lay still, silent and somehow small on the road giving the impression the bus was disproportionately massive. Adding to the unreal feeling surrounding the situation, escaping steam hissed from the radiator cap (which had been shaken loose by the brutal braking) shrouding the moment in a ghostly fog.
It looked as if a horror writer had decided to splash his imagination across High Street, with the unrestrained flair of an experimental artist who might ride a bike across his canvas of wet paint, just to shock and be different. Somehow none of this was real. However, reality has its own way of making people obliged to accept it.
The people from the shops only saw the frightening end-result, whereas the unlucky pedestrians already on the pavement (ordinary men women and children who until then were only interested in getting home, finishing the shopping, chatting or queuing for that very bus) were instantly punched from their ordinariness into someone else’s hellish nightmare!
None of this was by way of invitation. They were forced to observe that
The ring of falling metal outside the grocers on High Street made the customers in the shop waiting to be served, aware of a happening in the road. The screeching of brakes and the single scream that followed, underlined the fact that the “happening” was ongoing. By the time most people in the grocers and the adjoining shops had pushed their way outside to look, the scene had been set.
First impressions were horrific. From under the front of a bright red double decker bus, all anyone could see, was parts of a bike with a boy’s legs and feet outstretched like a snake’s forked tongue. He lay still and silent, with no apparent signs of life. The massive size of the bus dwarfed the victim, which added to the theatrical effect created by escaping steam shrouding the moment in a ghostly fog. Steam that was hissing from its radiator cap, which had been shaken loose with the intense shuddering caused by the brutal braking.
To an inventive mind, it could easily have looked as if a horror writer had decided to splash his imagination across High Street, with the unrestrained flair of an experimental artist who might ride a bike across his canvas of wet paint, just to shock and be different. Somehow none of this was real. However, reality has its own way of making people obliged to accept it.
The people from the shops only saw the frightening end-result, whereas the unlucky pedestrians already on the pavement (ordinary men women and children who until then were only interested in getting home, finishing the shopping, chatting or queuing for that very bus) were instantly punched from their ordinariness into someone else’s hellish nightmare! None of this was by way of invitation. They were forced to observe that
Paul, another improvement for you to consider..
'The ring of falling metal', could be misconstrued by the reader as, a circle of falling metal.
A clearer example in the active voice: The sound of metal rang out.
I hope my suggestion helps.
Good luck.
The second version is definitely an improvement, Paul.
One of the hardest things to learn as a writer is to leave yourself out of the picture. After all, you are the person telling the story - it's coming from inside your head - so how do you detach yourself from the finished product? There are ways and means, of course. One is, as Adrian suggests, to tell the story/scene from one person's POV. That way you can only show what he can see or hear, imagine or experience. In the first example, who is thinking that a horror writer had splashed his imagination across High Street? The thought doesn't belong to anyone, apparently - which makes it writer-speak, or authorial intrusion.
In fact it should be what the observers from the grocer's shop are thinking, since they are the people you've deisgnated as first witnesses inside the story. See the events through their eyes only. They hear the noise, they rush out; theirs is the horror at what lies before them.
But then you introduce us to the people on the street who were there first; I'd have the two sets of people mingling, describing what they'd seen in brief shocked lines, like 'He came out of nowhere - the driver didn't stand a chance', or 'He can't have been looking' - the sort of things people do say at such times. Everyone's got an opinion.
Be careful of shifting stance too much. Here you have 1 - the ring of metal (outside); 2 - the customers (inside); 3 - brakes and scream (outside); 4 - shoppers (inside/outside). There's an element of chaos here which, while it echoes the chaos of the accident, is nevertheless a bit like watching a game at Wimbledon!
Be careful, too, of descriptive overload. In one para, you have 'liked a snake's forked tongue', 'dwarfed', 'theatrical', and 'ghostly'. Also 'horrific', 'intense' and 'brutal' - all in four lines.
You have a horror writer being compared to an experimental artist, which is confusing. I know what you mean, but I'd say stick to the visual imagery, rather than bringing in the horror writer too: after all, this is a very visual event; the writer's part can be left to you, behind the scenes (literally).
Hope this helps.
Lorraine
Hi Paul. This could be the beginning of a good story. I felt the first four paragraphs read like a news bulletin, very 'matter of fact.' But the next re-written four flowed much better and made a good story. I think you are telling it in the third person but maybe told in the first could be more effective. I would enjoy reading more. Keep going.