All right. It’s been a full two weeks since I wrote this story, and I have shown in to the greatest literary minds I know. Besides Mr Mueller, Mr Armitage and Willow, anyway. None of them (not even you, Captain) realised the depth of these two short paragraphs. So here it is again, with my analysis in italics.
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
He wakes up in the technological age. Machines have replaced mechanical bells, which had replaced roosters.
He opened his eyes with just the slightest regret at having being woken so early,
He is born, and despite the fact he’s living in comfort, he still has reason to complain about life.
then fumbled around to switch off his alarm clock. Having done so, he closed his eyes
He dies, without really accomplishing anything.
and pulled the covers back over himself as he snuggled back into the warmth and went back to sleep.
He likes to stay in his comfort zone, even if it means ignoring the rest of the world. He is happy to wriggle into the warmth of ignorant bliss, and let the cold, caustic world do what it will to anyone that’s not him.
She woke up shivering, violently, as if with ague.
She is born, cold, uncomfortable. Violent might hint at abuse, or some other wretched force that battered her. Ague is basically a fever.
The night was showing no mercy again,
Again. It’s happened more than once, and she’s almost used to it.
and with trembling hands, she pulled a rag around herself
In comparison to the boy’s blankets, this girl (a tramp?) has a rag.
and closed her eyes, praying sleep would come again soon.
This girl wants to die. Her life is miserable, and all throughout her existence, all she ever knows is cold loneliness.
The story could be interpretted as a comparison of worlds when juxtaposed- the third and first class. It hints a little at nature versus technology, questions the meaning of life, shows our insignificance in the world… Hell, you could even go as far to say a comparison of gender. "Frailty thy name is woman" and whatnot. For two paragraphs, I think I packed this as full of ideologies as it can get! Mr Watson did point out that it’s not technically a short story, without a rising climax and a discontinued plotline etc. Ah well. I just thought I’d shed some light on a story that I alone could understand. Was it too abstract(like, how the hell was anyone supposed to get that?!), or was it just too subtle (like, wow, I didn’t even notice)?
Can I please get some feedback from the intelligent members of the audience?
"I like to think hopefully. There are too many pessimists in the world, and someone has to keep them happy."