Work from Mak Kulovic

MIDNIGHT VISITOR

That evening I returned late from the library to my room. All three of my roommates were there. Shortly before midnight, our oldest roommate Tom ritually announced the turning off of the light. None of the three of us minded, we were all ready for our new, deep, unfulfilled dreams. Our four-bed-room was located in the first of four dorms in the Student City with windows facing the main arterial road that connected the international airport with the center of Belgrade. Although it was late vehicles were passing down the street, traffic noise crept into the room through the closed window.

I was in my first dream when there was a knock on our door. Tom got up, turned on the light, went to the door and asked:

“Who is it?”

“Kristina,”a woman’s voice was heard from the other side.

I winced. Tom opened the door, and I saw Kristina standing in the hallway. She asked Tom about me. At the same time she saw me, came over and sat on my bed. In a low voice, she told me that she was at the party in a restaurant; that she had an argument with her boyfriend; that she could not go home at this time, and she asked me if she could spend the night with me. She was upset and sad.

I have known Kristina since I came to study in Belgrade a year ago. She came to Belgrade from a small town in the interior of Serbia to work. She was a stout, beautiful country girl, four years older than me. Perhaps it is better to say she was already a mature woman. I liked her. She knew that. We saw each other  occasionally, had a drink, went to the cinema once. Then she would disappear without a word and I wouldn’t see her for a long time. She told me once:

“I do not deserve someone like you. I despise myself, I deceive myself. I am careless, I fall in love with every older man who offers himself to me. I have become a dirty female prostitute that everyone takes advantage of and then despises. ”

I last saw her briefly two months ago at a local department store.

We huddled together on a narrow bed, under one blanket, our lips touching on the same pillow, the smell of alcohol from her mouth spreading. She fell asleep. I couldn’t. All my roommates were awake and looking weird. They said nothing.

After a while, it was maybe close to two after midnight, there was another knock on the door of our room. This time the knocking was much louder, more aggressive.

“Control, open the door,” came a sharp male voice from the hallway.

“Farewell my dorm room,” I thought. The presence of a person who is not a regular tenant but an “illegal” meant losing the right to accommodation not only in the Student City dorms, but in any dormitory at Belgrade University. All my roommates and I woke up and got up. Kristina woke up but remained lying in bed.

Tom unlocked the door. Two men in civilian clothes and one uniformed policeman entered the room. They asked us all to show ID cards. It was police control, not dormitory control, so they were only interested in the identity of the persons, not the dorm tenancy status. The reason for control was the arrival of United States President in Belgrade, which in just a few hours was supposed to pass right here, under our windows, on the way from Surin Airport. We all showed the ID cards, everything was all-right, and they left. Kristina went back to bed and fell asleep again. My roommates and I stayed awake for a long time. It was dawn when we fell asleep. The next morning I found out that my math exam had been postponed. All students of the University of Belgrade, together with the citizens of Belgrade were on the street welcoming the first American president who visited our country. My midnight visitor Kristina was with me that  whole day.

Instructor Response

MIDNIGHT VISITOR

That evening I returned late from the library to my room. All three of my roommates were there. Shortly before midnight, our oldest roommate Tom ritually announced the turning off of the light. None of the three of us minded, we were all ready for our new, deep, unfulfilled dreams. Our four-bed-room was located in the first of four dorms in the Student City with windows facing the main arterial road that connected the international airport with the center of Belgrade. Although it was late, vehicles were passing down the street and traffic noise crept into the room through the closed window. This is informative and well expressed.

I was in my first dream when there was a knock on our door. Tom got up, turned on the light, went to the door and asked:

Good setting skillfully embedded

"Who is it?”

“Kristina,”a woman’s voice was heard from the other side.

I winced. Tom opened the door, and I saw Kristina standing in the hallway. She asked Tom about me. At the same time she saw me, came over and sat on my bed. In a low voice, she told me that she was at the party in a restaurant; that she had an argument with her boyfriend; that she could not go home at this time, and she asked me if she could spend the night with me. She was upset and sad. You might take this out of narrative and write it in scene.  In the moment. It’s easy to do once you get the knack of it. See references.

I have known Kristina since I came to study in Belgrade a year ago. She came to Belgrade from a small town in the interior of Serbia to work. She was a stout, beautiful country girl, four years older than me. Perhaps it is better to say she was already a mature woman. I liked her. She knew that. We saw each other  occasionally, had a drink, went to the cinema once. Then she would disappear without a word and I wouldn’t see her for a long time. She told me once:  [This is backstory; backstory slows down front story momentum. You might put this into an introductory passage–not the dialogue, though–as essential information but as backstory should be carefully inserted or integrated into the front story.]

"I do not deserve someone like you. I despise myself, I deceive myself. I am careless, I fall in love with every older man who offers himself to me. I have become a dirty female prostitute that everyone takes advantage of and then despises.”  See below comment on dialogue.

I last saw her briefly two months ago at a local department store.

We huddled together on a narrow bed, under one blanket, our lips touching on the same pillow, the smell of alcohol from her mouth spreading. She fell asleep. I couldn’t. All my roommates were awake and looking weird. They said nothing.

After a while, it was maybe close to two after midnight, there was another knock on the door of our room. This time the knocking was much louder, more aggressive.

TRY: After a while, it was maybe close to  at two after midnight, there was anothera louder, more aggressive knock on the door. of our room. This time the knocking was much louder, more aggressive.    (The goal in any writing is be clear and succinct whenever possible.

"Control, open the door," came a sharp male voice from the hallway.

“Farewell my dorm room,” I thought. [It’s acceptable, but neither common nor mandatory, to use italics for thought. EXAMPLE: Farewell my dorm room, I thought.] The presence of a person who is not a regular tenant but an "illegal" meant losing the right to accommodation not only in the Student City dorms, but in any dormitory at Belgrade University. All my roommates and I woke up and got up. Kristina woke up but remained lying in bed.

Tom unlocked the door. Two men in civilian clothes and one uniformed policeman entered the room. They asked us all to show ID cards. It was police control, not dormitory control, so they were only interested in the identity of the persons, not the dorm tenancy status. The reason for control was the arrival of United States President in Belgrade, which in just a few hours was supposed to pass right here, under our windows, on the way from Sur?in Airport. We all showed the ID cards, everything was all-right, and they left. Kristina went back to bed and fell asleep again. My roommates and I stayed awake for a long time. It was dawn when we fell asleep. The next morning I found out that my math exam had been postponed. All students of the University of Belgrade, together with the citizens of Belgrade were on the street welcoming the first American president who visited our country. My midnight visitor Kristina was with me that  whole day.  Move this info elsewhere, essential but in the wrong place.

 

CONSIDER reworking this dialogue.

 

"I do not deserve someone like you. I despise myself, I deceive myself. I am careless, I fall in love with every older man who offers himself to me. I have become a dirty female prostitute that everyone takes advantage of and then despises.”

 

This is important in your story. It gives us the characterization of Kristina. You’ve done this as backstory told by the narrator through the point of view of a character. It seems a reader wants to know and believe more about Kristina. You could move the information in this dialogue into in-scene telling (chronologically, perhaps). https://www.storyinliteraryfiction.com/essays-on-writing/characterization/  Or, for dramatic advancement, you could internalize story segment in one or both characters. Or you could go to first person and develop feelings and reactions.

References: https://www.storyinliteraryfiction.com/essays-on-writing/dialogue/

https://www.storyinliteraryfiction.com/essays-on-writing/improving-dialogue/

When building character, dialogue is essential to make character alive on the page. After all, it’s mainly how we communicate and get to know each other:

https://www.storyinliteraryfiction.com/essays-on-writing/characterization/

Excellent work. And thank you for the submission. I see this as a description of an event that has stasyed in your memory and with that assumption, you’ve done terrific work.  My comments are focused on possible revision to fiction the writing would increase interest, provide meaning, and stimulate change in thinking about what it means to be human (showing rather than stating). If that’s not a goal, ignore anything that isn’t valuable.

All the best in your writing career.

WHC

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