The Cliff Edge

by Adrian Spalding
10th April 2016

In this short story, one of my daily exercises, I am struggling how best to show the narrative starts in the present, recalls some past events and then returns to the present. Part way through I have used a simple break of dots to indicate this. Is there a better method? Your thoughts and comments are most welcome. Thanking you in advance.

The Cliff Edge

As he opened the car door, there was a loud clap of thunder.   He hurried across the newly mown field, kicking up dry straw, dust rising in his wake. The summer sky had darkened quickly. He knew the torrential rain they had forecast would soon arrive. Half way across the field, his lungs were struggling to provide enough oxygen, years of smoking had not helped them. By the time he had reached the wooden fence on the far side, there was no sign of her. He had to stop, needing to recover.

He stood, bent forward, sucked in as much air as he could, urged himself to recover. He felt the first heavy drops of rain on his back. His lungs still struggling, he pushed himself over the fence, as fast as he could. Ahead he could see the edge of the cliff. He knew she had to be there somewhere, collapsed on the scrubland that edged the chalk cliffs, or standing behind one of the few trees that clung to the crumbling edge. He walked towards the edge; his blue eyes searched the landscape.

It had started over what should have been a harmless difference of opinion. She liked peanut butter on her toast. He could not imagine why she would want such a gluey spread and suggested marmalade was far better. In the end they had exactly what they wanted on their toast. Yet, for some reason he could not explain, he just kept on about it, “It must be so dry! P eanut butter, all sticking to your teeth!” After years of marriage, he should have known better; known that she would take his light-hearted comments as criticism. She always did, even on the good days, when the dark clouds of depression did not hang over their marriage.  She shouted and screamed at him, threw her toast at the wall. He watched it slide slowly down, leaving a track of peanut butter. And he ignored her, as she stomped out of the breakfast room, slamming the door behind her. He heard her loud footsteps on the stairs as she went up to her bedroom.

Thirty years of marriage had taught him to leave her alone, let her calm down and in time she would return, as if nothing had happened.  However much they might try to erase the memories, the past had happened; deep down he knew, she still felt the pain as much as he did.

He had allowed her just over an hour, which was normally how long it took her to get over any of their skirmishes. He knocked timidly on her door, and when there was no reply, opened it.  She had gone.  Just a simple hand written note on a scrap of paper explained “I am going back to where it all began, to end it forever.”

It had all started, twenty five years ago, on the edge of the disintegrating cliff.

A young, happily married couple, walked in the cool summer breeze, with their beautiful four year old son.  The father let go the child’s hand for just a fleeting moment, to allow the boy to pick a summer daisy, far from the unguarded edge. The boy saw a bigger, brighter flower, which he was sure his mother would prefer. He dashed towards it, oblivious to the danger he was running towards.  Too fast for his parents, he arrived beside the flower, close to the edge. The noise of chalk crumbling was drowned by his parents screams and the small figure disappeared. 

…………………………..

 

Thankfully, as yet, the predicted thunderous downpour had not materialised. The few spots that had landed on his shirt had evaporated.  The cliff edge seemed deserted, but he could sense her presence. Still breathing heavily, he walked towards the edge of the cliff, looking to his left, then right, hoping to locate her.

He stood, looked over the edge, and recalled  the tragic day, when he had looked down and seen their perfect child sprawled on the rocks below. Today, he expected to see the figure of his wife, spread-eagled over those same rocks, but she was not there.

He felt the sea breeze ripple through his thinning hair, then a deliberate push from behind. In his peripheral vision, he caught a glimpse of his wife, as she smugly watched him fall over the edge.

As he fell, accepting his imminent death, he wondered if she would follow him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

Hi Robin,

Thank you for your comments and advice. I's always good to make someone laugh, even if not intended. I do however agreed with your comments, I am sure there could be a greater dramatic impact at the end, as he falls over the cliff. I will ponder that one. Plus thank you for your advice on dots, a great help.

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Adrian Spalding
14/04/2016

As your neighbour in the 'shared work post' here's my comment Adrian. I liked this.

It reads easily and you create supense from the beginning. I can really identify with the couples' tragic situation. I'm not sure about your ending though - for me it turns the tragedy that you carefully built up into something comic. I had to laugh at the end and was then somehow disappointed about the fact that I had had to laugh.

To your question: I don't think you need a break of dots to divide past from present here. There are several 'pasts' in the story. The story is also too short and it seems to me the different flashbacks flow out of, and into, the present quite naturally

Buit if you really do want to do this, you also need, I think, a break of dots after your second paragraph.

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12/04/2016