Cranberries
January 27, 2008Red sticky juice sluggishly drips down my chin, branching into thin, vein-like channels, while the tips of my fingers enjoy newly acquired rubicund caps. My mouth opens invitingly to devour yet another pellet of this magical fruit, the unfamiliar mix of sweetness and tartness teasing the taste buds of my tongue. Reveling in every bit of my new food experience, I eat slowly to prolong the heavenly effect of the ambrosia. Contrastingly, mom pulls a face every time a tiny red ball disappears in her mouth; eventually she resorts to a glass of water. I inherit her share of cranberries.
I love this piece until the word ‘contrastingly’ and ‘eventually’. It breaks the beautiful, fierce words you have going in this. I think you could get rid of the word and just start with ‘My mom’ or Mom. But when you say ‘pulls a face’ I wanted to shout No! use your magical words to tell me what the face looks like. I think this is a fantastic 100 words (just with a few tweaks!) : )
Actually, now that I read the text again, I feel weird about the entire part about my mom, because talking about your mother right after you have used some sexy, enticing language is as awkward as it can get. Thanks for drawing my attention!