This piece comes from the [Fiction] Friday prompt, “Include this theme in your story… After a long night, a hunter sees something he/she cannot believe.” – which in hindsight, I may or may not done properly but it was also inspired by the city today.
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Story Hunter
Photo by See-ming Lee
With notebook in hand, on table, or resting on her knee, her body reacted to the happenings of the city. Her eyes darted to the nearest movement; a man crossing a road, a child’s nagging hands outside a shop window. Her ears twigged to the voices floating in the air around her; mocking the boss on lunch or a declaration of love on a tram.
In the afternoon, she had sat in the corner of a cafe, trying to hide away as she transcribed overheard conversations. She would twist her mouth in such a way as to convince those around her that she was lost in anguish, perhaps studying, writing a tiresome essay, not in ecstasy at filtering the world around her.
She was a story hunter. Her pen was like a harpoon as she stalked around her forest of the city. People moved around their everyday lives unaware they were being watched, even as it crossed into night, and the people changed. The shoppers and the lunchers and the workers drifted away.
Some of the workers stayed, changing out of their masks they hid behind all day to revel with the students and diners and drinkers. She had to squint a little at her notebook under lights lit just for decoration. Her ears twitched and panicked as conversations merged into each other like the groan of highway traffic.
When she looked up in the packed bar, she thought she was facing a mirror. Listening eyes peered over a notebook clutched close to the chest. Another story hunter. They lowered their notebook to reveal a mischievous grin in amongst the stubble.
She wanted to shrink into herself when she saw he was making his way across to her. His eyes were as wide as hers but she didn’t want him to know her story.
“This is a big city,” he said, “I’m sure there’s enough stories in this place for both of us. I can go somewhere else if you like.”
She straightened herself and nodded. “I think that would be a good idea.”
She waited for him to leave, and just as he stepped up and turned away, she called him back. “Hey, what kind of character am I in there?” She pointed to his notebook, perhaps a little more worn out than hers.
“The main one, of course.” His smile was sweet. Her reply was a smile that said nothing, that ended the conversation. He turned away again.
She didn’t know whether to be charmed
- or just fucking creeped out.
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Ha – this was a charmer, in many ways, like a good piece of shadowy noir, the cool professional on the prowl, only to come against her mirror and opposite.
I loved it all up until the last line ‘or just fucking creeped out.’ I think if you had left it at charmed, would be stronger. It sort of jars us out of the story a bit. That’s a tiny thing though – excellent piece.
Ha! That’s always the danger, isn’t it? “Are you going to put me in your book?” Dangerous request, to be sure.
Nice one.
A very nicely-written piece, with some really good lines in there…
“Her pen was like a harpoon….” brilliant.
I agree with DJ Young, it’s very well written with some excellent turns of phrase, but I just don’t think the cynical last line was necessary.
I was drawn into the story from the first paragraph, an acute observation so cleverly drawn.
I’m the opposite in that I liked the last line; it is a little glimpse into your perspective perhaps. I think of it as kind of cheeky.
The question of charmed or creeped out? I’d say a little from column A; a little from column B. Good story!
Hey guys, thanks for all your great comments. I’m glad people raised the last line. It was kind of intentional to jar with people.
This is by far your best work yet!! So deftly done. It’s a killer concept and you’ve more than done it justice. Excellent stuff!
I saw a guy writing in the coffes shop that I frequent and he was doing exactly what your MC is doing only he wasn’t hiding it as well as your MC. What would have been really creepy in your story is if that guy kept showing up different places where she was as though he really was writing about her-stalking her. I enjoyed your descriptions. Great work!