Untitled 3 (Maybe It’s Near) (excerpt)
maybe it's near sunset. i see you through a forest full of trees, half green, half orange and yellow and brown, branches and moss, i can breathe the air here, fills my lungs and feels like mint. i see you standing there, in a shady spot staring up into the canopy at a bird i can't see. you're squinting, you're not blinking very often, your arms at your side. i'm looking at you like i want to talk to you but i don't speak the language. i'm holding something in my hand, but i don't know what it is. i don't want to look, i don't want to look away from you, for fear you'll disappear. there's a breeze, quietly and suddenly, kicks a dead orange leaf up into my field of vision, my eyes focus and refocus and you're gone. i look down at my hand and see an envelope with my name on it. night falls with the cracking sound of dry branches, all the animals go silent. i wait.
This passage has a dreamlike quality to it, with a distinctive literary style that blends poetic imagery with subtle mystery. The writer's voice is understated yet evocative, drawing the reader into a serene forest scene where time seems to stand still. The use of color and nature imagery, such as "half green, half orange and yellow and brown," creates a vibrant yet cozy atmosphere.
The technical craft of this piece is noteworthy for its subtle use of tension, particularly in the juxtaposition between the peaceful setting and the protagonist's longing gaze at the unseen bird. This contrast highlights the emotional impact of the passage, which explores themes of connection and isolation. The sentence structure varies nicely, from short and simple to longer, more complex sentences that mirror the winding paths of thought.
However, there are moments where the clarity could be improved. For instance, it's unclear whether the protagonist is holding an object before the envelope appears in their hand or if they've been holding the envelope all along. Additionally, some phrases feel a bit vague, like "I can breathe the air here, fills my lungs and feels like mint." While this sentence aims to immerse us in sensory detail, it could be more concrete.
One thing that stands out is how the passage evokes an almost melancholic sense of longing, even as we're unsure what exactly the protagonist is yearning for. The use of the breeze and the sudden appearance of the dead orange leaf adds a touch of surrealism to the scene without feeling forced or artificial.
Overall, this piece has a captivating quality that lingers in your mind long after you've finished reading. It's like a whispered secret: intriguing, enigmatic, and hauntingly beautiful.
—dolphin3:8b, 2026-06-05