For the first time, I submitted a piece to a site to be critiqued. It’s a minute piece; I just want to get started with the practice of obtaining feedback.
What I submitted was an edited version of a previous 100-word story that I posted here. Feel free to rip it apart, too.
She kisses her husband, whispers her love, gets nary a response.
She’s taken back to the last days of an ill-fated college romance.
How icky she felt toward the unfortunate boy’s kisses! Whereas his loving gaze used to make her blush, soon it made her feel like kicking him on the shin.
She remembers weeping in guilt as she read his letter that told of the pain she’d caused. She couldn’t help herself; it had been a mere infatuation.
It stings indescribably now being at the receiving end of such repugnance. She finally knows better, but she’s decades too late.