Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-28975088-20170831102314

I was just told about the Writer's Workshop. I think that this is a tool that I will use fairly often for feedback on stories. But the reason I am posting- is a rough draft to a story I was writing about a year or two ago. It drew inspiration from H.P. Lovecraft's story "The Outsider" and was also partly inspired by Tyler Durdens vision of civilizational collapse in Fight Club (The Novel)... But I was trying to go in a different direction with it. I just wanted to post it here to see what some people thought about it. Much of the story was lost, but I forget how- I believe it got deleted by accident. But here it is, and do keep in mind this is a very ROUGH draft written in notepad which does not have any form of spell checking. I

Upon the waning and rotting cityscape where I have lived my whole life I had never seen the outside world. The city had been my home for time and memoriam. I don't remember where I came from or whom brought me into this world, and all I can remember had been wandering aimlessly in the gibbous cityscape. For the moon and the stars had since faded from the ash and dust collected from the ruinous and bitter reminants of what once was a prosperous city. Whom had once cared for me was now a faded memory in a sea of faded memores, blotched a forgetful and dismal color.

To be alone is what I had known for my whole life, but I had grown tired of the menotinous life of the city, and for all the comfort it had given me it was time for me to leave the haven of the city and to finally rid myself of the isolation and loneliness I had felt for years. The tower is where I called home, the vines hung from it's pointed top, slumping down to the flooded streets and entangled in the thick brush of the below, a towering monolith upon a sea of decaying buildings and towers.

I began to take the journey to the lands below, the echo of footsteps and trickling of water- the only sounds to be heard as I descended the staircase to the streets below. The echoes of the hollow tower always frightened me, a pertinant reminder of how alone I really am. I scaled down the tower, pushing open the monolithic doors unto the streets of flooded water with decaying and growing plants piled on top of each other. The civilization that came before me must have had a pre-occupation on bizzare metal bars that permiated the streets, the use of which was alien to me. My journey past the mucky wasteland of the city unto the promised land of the outside world was to be long and difficult. 