This is the intro for the fourth part of the English project I did, which I used the short story piece Corridor for. I wanted to put it in here because as Corridor was written months before this was, this intro is now part of Corridor in my mind.
D. G. Weber and the Corridor
Last semester I took the Introduction to Creative Writing, English 124, course and for our fifth writing assignment we had to write a short story, topic of our choice, three to six pages. To my dismay, I had a major writer's block for this particular assignment. So, cramming at the last minute quickly became my only option.
A night or so before the story was due, I talked with a friend of mine, who also happens to be a writer, though that's not the career she wants to pursue. (In my opinion, she'd make an excellent novelist, and I swear I'm not just saying that because we're close friends. That girl can write!) Well, I had the idea to ask her for a prompt off the top of her head in the hopes that I could finally break the writer's block. And as only a true friend would, she searched for what she thought would be a good prompt instead and after that she gave me encouragement and feedback as I wrote the first draft of Corridor.
Word for word, the prompt I was given: "You are walking down a long dark corridor, and something makes you turn around. You suddenly realize that was the worst mistake of your life." Now, I didn't exactly follow the prompt entirely, and I didn't exactly end up with what I originally thought I would. I spent a while trying to think of what I would consider the "worst mistake". Why and how could turning around be so terrible? What is "the worst mistake" in anyone's life? How can you know until the life has ended? Is that the worst mistake? I got so caught up on the worst mistake that I decided to work on my other conundrum for a minute…and that is where the story was born. The second part of the equation: what makes the character turn around in the first place?
I'd never really explored much in the "scary" field, so this prompt intrigued me. I thought suspense would be a good idea, even if I was a beginner. Hey, everyone's gotta start somewhere, right? Looking back, I'm still not sure how successful I've been with the intended suspense of this little snipit, but it's still fun anyway. This is actually one of my favorite pieces to work with and ponder over. I'm at the state where I'm indecisive about whether I should expand this or simply leave it as a quote unquote "short story".
There isn't much of a plot to be had, but that's because I wanted to focus on the journey of that moment. This piece is one of the only pieces I have that is intended purely to focus entirely on a specific moment in the characters' lives. Yes, while I strive for that in all my work, this piece was written, was meant for, the sole purpose of living in the moment with the character. I guess it's kinda like another fun little experiment for me. It's me stretching myself out to see what I enjoy and what's possible. It's a break from the complicated and twisting plots of mine that I can't ever seem to simplify. It's a brief meeting with someone I've never met and known all along at the same time.
So, my warning to you is that the story isn't exactly a beginning, middle, and end story. My petition to you is to keep an open mind and allow your senses to take over for the next few pages. My hope for you is that you'll see and feel what I've attempted to construct in this small, incomplete world. My thanks to you is for taking the time to read this at all.
The story doesn't have a specific setting, time, or place, real or otherwise. I think I like it that way. It could happen anywhere and at any time. I've always liked stories like that. I did think about it, but not enough to fret over the fact that I decided to zero in on a different kind of time and place, nameless. I just wrote. I wrote and wrote and this is what happened…