Exorcising colour
Posted: 22 October 2003
Word Count: 390
Summary: Not so much a short story, more a mini narrative - an exercise in colour.
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Beth splashed water on her face and staggered to the bedroom. This was the fifth time today, the fifth time that she had been unable to find any relief from the waves of nausea that had swept over her. As she collapsed onto her bed she spotted a photo sticking out from behind the wall mirror. “Ah, that photo,” she thought. It had been taken at a party the week before she had received the news. Carefully pushing herself to her feet she leaned across to examine the picture. Out of it peered an attractive woman in her mid-thirties surrounded by a rainbow of balloons and streamers that bounced in the sunlit background. The photographer had caught her unawares, had frozen her laughing with her head thrown back and her dark eyes sparkling. She looked vibrant, hair shiny and smooth as a new conker, skin honey tanned from a recent holiday. A yellow halter-necked sundress revealed an ample cleavage above a slender waist. “Oh yes,” Beth sighed, “the picture of health.” And then, catching her reflection, she laughed a laugh that cracked as it caught in her throat. Propping the photo up on the mantle below the mirror she began to scrutinise the two faces that looked back at her. There was no contest - the mirror never lied.
Her hair, or what was left of it, was no longer the rich chestnut that it had been at the party. Instead her head looked as though it was covered in a short grey velvety fuzz; that was the only way to describe it, you couldn’t call it hair anymore. The sparkle had left her eyes, which now sat like two bruised sunken pools in a face of parchment thin white skin. And as for the cleavage? Well…
It wasn’t the cancer that had drained her of colour, but the treatment for it. “It’s even bled the red from my lips,” Beth murmured, looking more closely at her reflection, “at this rate there will be nothing left. I’ll be a blank sheet.” But even while she thought this, she knew that the treatment was her best hope for a cure. “White,” she reflected, “means pure.” With that she grabbed her most colourful bandanna, wrapped it around her head and lay back down as another wave of nausea began to take control.
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Comments by other Members
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 Nell at 08:25 on 22 October 2003
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Hi Stephanie,
This was short but well written and without sentimentality, and it is complete in itself, but in a very few words you've somehow made me care about Beth and want to read on. You could certainly expand this; it's a good beginning and has the potential for a really moving story.
Best, Nell.
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 bluesky3d at 10:21 on 22 October 2003
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Spud - I agree, very well written.
One tiny thing that I wondered about - 'Judging by the rainbow of balloons and streamers that bounced in the sunlit background, she was at a party of some sort.' If Beth kept the photo tucked behind the mirror wouldn't she remember a little more about the party ? - or are you suggesting that she had also lost her memory?
I wondered too - how much time had elapsed since the party?
Andrew :o)
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spud at 10:32 on 22 October 2003
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Hi Nell and Andrew
Thanks for your kind comments. This was written as a result of three friends of mine who have gone/are going through breast cancer this year (all in their 30s.
Andrew - you're right about the 'party of some sort.' I did wonder about changing it, but then thought it might keep the reader guessing as to who the person in the photo was. Did that come across? Also, this was more about Beth, her feeling rotten and not having to think too hard - so a bit of memory loss perhaps.
With regard to how much time had elapsed - Beth had received the news a week after the party, and judging by my friends' experiences probably about three months.
Thanks once again
Spud
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bluesky3d at 12:32 on 22 October 2003
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Spud
If it were only three months after then she would propbably remember what 'the party of some sort was, and as the story is told from Beth's Point of View - then perhaps it would be better just to say 'the party', and miss out 'of some sort'. The reader can then imagine it is her birthday party or whatever feels most apt to the reader. Hope this makes sense?
Andrew :o)
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spud at 14:41 on 22 October 2003
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Andrew
Thanks for your latest comment. I do understand the point that you're making, and to be honest I am torn as to whether to amend it or not. Part of me still feels that its more about Beth not having the energy to remember the details of the party, or what kind of party it was - perhaps she is a party animal, and this was one of oh so many!
Yours undecided
Spud
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bluesky3d at 15:35 on 22 October 2003
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Sorry Spud - didn't want to labour the point - the issue is probably more about the POV (Point of View) of your narrator and how it relates to Beth's own POV.
You want to make the reader wonder who it was in the party photograph - I understood this. But the consequence is that the narrator's thoughts and Beth's thoughts are a little mixed at the point when she examines the picture. In your piece, the narrator has an independent and less knowlegable point of view than Beth.
“Ah, that photo,” she thought. It had been taken a week before she had received the news. Carefully pushing herself to her feet she leaned across to examine the picture. Out of it peered an attractive woman in her mid-thirties. Judging by the rainbow of balloons and streamers that bounced in the sunlit background, she was at a party of some sort.'
Because Beth's comment begins this paragraph, then this leads the reader to expect that the whole of the paragraph will be Beth's thoughts, from Beth's POV, but suddenly it is the remote narrator talking again.. 'Out of it... she was at a party of some sort.'
I might be alone, and this might not trouble anyone else - so please do wait to see if anyone else makes a similar observation, if you are unsure what I mean.
Andrew :o)
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Account Closed at 08:38 on 23 October 2003
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Hi Spud,
Great work. It brought tears to my eyes. I can see this is close to your heart and it is an issue women can relate too. I agree with Andrew about the photo. For me it's obviously her otherwise why keep it by her bed?
Judging by the rainbow of balloons and streamers that bounced in the sunlit background, she was at a party of some sort.
This whole sentence didn't work for me.
but it doesn't detract from the whole which is truely touching and while I would say write more, i know I'm going to need a box of tissues to read more!!!
Elspeth
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spud at 14:47 on 23 October 2003
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Dear Andrew and Elspeth
Firstly, Andrew can I say a big thank you for the time you have taken to read this piece and to persist with your point. I woke up this morning and re-read it and... you're right! I've amended it and I think it makes more sense and is a better read now. It's true what they say about time and distance giving a new perspective - so big thanks again.
Elspeth - I know that you know how much writing this piece meant to me, so I really appreciate that you've taken the time to read it and to comment. It means a lot.
Thanks and hugs to you both
Spud :0)
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bluesky3d at 17:57 on 23 October 2003
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It does read even better now Spud, you now introduce the photo and her memory of how she was before the illness, it in a subtle and poignant way.
Andrew :o)
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 Becca at 19:17 on 23 October 2003
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Stephanie, It's almost complete in itself like a piece of flash fiction. It is well written, and I did also agree with Andrew's point, now sorted. My own sister wore wigs until I bought her a bandana thing.
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