Strong story, Hannah. Something haunting about it.
The story had me engrossed, wondering what was going to happen, where it was going, and in the end satisfied.
This story made me cry, Hannah. I never cry. You found a way to string the right words together to convey thoughts and feelings that I thought could never be captured on a page. Yet there they are.
Before I say anything, I need to post a disclaimer: I am from a generation almost entirely in the past now, so what I say will be colored by that fact.
The story is moving and powerful, reminiscent of Hemingway in its diction. But is it about the tiny, thin line between love and hate? Is it about total self-absorption, or just about too much youth and too little self-knowledge?
The story is thought-provoking and leads a reader to come to her own conclusions about the relationship between the two characters. . . . The writing stripped the world away, forcing the reader to focus all interest on the characters. I enjoy stories that stimulate the mind in this way.
I read this twice right away. It's one of those miracles of writing, I think. Reminds me of David Foster Wallace. Perfect.
A lovely ropedance.
The above comments reflect many things I agree with. Congratulations. The only thing left to say is that I'm now a fan of your magnifying glass of human emotions.
Wow, a brave and curious articulation of the fascinating dance of obsession, love, violence, desire, passion, and power. I love the way the body and mind were right there trying to integrate, or investigate the disintegration of the relationship.