Hondru sat by the stream near her home peering down at a school of fish. They swam about each other in a glittering sphere of water and motion. Watching fish was mindless business, Hondru thought. She had been mesmerized by their scaley, twirling cycle for hours. They were of varying size, some old, some young. She pulled her gaze from the water. The world outside the stream seemed alien to her. It took her a few moments to adjust to the bright, fishless environment. She could see fish swimming across her eyelids every time she closed her eyes. Their paintbrush motion left its artwork impressed on her mind. She lifted up her skirt and waded into the stream. As she did, the fish cleared a path in synchronized retreat as her bare feet pushed forward. Hondru stopped and stood absolutely still in the middle of the water. She hoped the fish would swim back and dance around her feet. The big ones, brave with age, were the first to come.
With a short story you can't take so long building the setting, pretty as it is.
By now we should have a hint of what the conflict will be. I think you might be able to save two or three of these sentences for later and jump a little quicker into the action of the story.
Rolenta, 2000 words is not a short-short. Don't hesitate to lengthen the story if it the story needs more.
Your internal monolog was running fine, then you tagged it. That hit me like running into a brick wall. Obviously it was Hondru thinking. I didn't think it was a fish, therefore, no need to tag it.
I've rewritten your first 13 in my own voice and style. Absorb what you think helps, then discard the rest.
The stream near Hondru's home was always full of fish, big and small, young and old, swimming and flitting in the glittering water. She could watch them for hours, mindlessly soaking in the activity whenever her brain needed a rest. She looked away when she stretched the muscles in her nect, tight from endless gazing into the water. She looked away, but the fish were still there, swimming across the lids of her closed eyes
<Insert reason for going into the water.>
Lifting the skirt off her ankles, she waded into the stream Fish darted clear of the monsterous legs invading their home. If only she could comfort them. To have them dance about her feet would be divine.
The big ones, brave with age, came first. (As a one sentence paragraph.)
Edited afer proofreading.
[This message has been edited by Spaceman (edited November 12, 2005).]
My 2 cents...
Gojirah!!
I want to add that I was drawn in by the piece because of the gentle descriptions. I don't think all hooks have to slap you in the face.
[This message has been edited by hoptoad (edited November 14, 2005).]