An atrocious theater



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The world was still as a painting, sitting patiently as I reached for the knife, red with blood, wiped clean of fingerprints, and returned to its hiding place.

No one ever suspected the actor until the play was finished.

The red-blooded paintings are cursed with life by a mad artist. I am the actor.

They say that I'm gifted, but I say it's a curse that plagues me every day of my life. The paintings live a better life than the living, and I'm the one who has to show them.

They say, if you paint your world, you'll never be unhappy again.

Maybe it's not so bad.

I wonder, could I live the life of a painting? But it wouldn't be a life of freedom. I'd be locked up in a box, like a typical painting. Mine would be red. And I'd have blood on my hands.

It reminds me of my grandfather, this atrocious theater.

But I'd be painted, and I'd be able to make my own path.

I'd be painted red.

I'd be free.

The audience would applaud.

And I'd laugh.

It'd be art.

They say that I'm gifted.

But I say it's a curse that plagues me every day of my life.

The paintings, they're the ones who live, not me.

The paintings laugh, and I curse the artist.

I hear the sound of an applause.

And I know that the curtains are about to rise.

They'll think it's a show.

But I know it's a punishment.

For an actor, this is hell.

But Death would be worse.

Death is the ultimate act. The acting of life.

Rather than saving a life, I'd end one.

But I don't want to be a painting, or be with the artist.

Death's a better option.

And so I run off the stage.

The stage curtain falls shut.

I hope for a standing ovation.

The audience would applaud.

And I'd laugh.

It'd be art.

They say that I'm gifted…

…but I say it's a curse that plagues me every day of my life.

Thank you for reading. The story above was written by Mitchell Swift and posted at reddit, and has received a lot of praise. The original post with thousands of comments can be found here. He sent us this information, in more detail, about the process:

I'm Mitchell Swift, a student from Findlay, Indiana. This was a story I wrote for a creative writing contest in May.

It was a writing contest sponsored by the Center for Creative Writing at Purdue University. It was my second entry. I saw the contest on Reddit less than a month ago and I was impressed by what the judges had to say, so I decided to enter and see if I could win.

The entries were good; I didn't expect to win, but I thought it was worth a try.

My winning story was An Atrocious Theater (you can read that here). I tried something a bit different with this story. It was a bit of an experiment, which was reflected in my materials (which you can see here) that I sent in with the story.

I try to reel in stories that I read, and take parts that I like and try to incorporate them in my writing. I've read quite a few mysteries and crime stories. I really like stories that have a colorful cast of characters.

This story was intended to have a straightforward plot, but a lot of red herrings and misdirection that kind of changes the tone of the story. I like writing stories that have a lot of twists and turns.

It's good to play with your readers.

My goal is to eventually tell stories that readers didn't really see coming.

The contest organizers were impressed by the story and it helped sell me on the importance of experimentation. The fact that it won first place was a good bonus!

I'm a late adapter to reddit. I had heard of it, and I had been reluctant to get an account because I thought it was too much of an echo chamber. After I made the account, I re-read the concept of the subreddit and was pleasantly surprised by how much great feedback and support people share with each other.

There are a lot of nice people out there.

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