Charles Pendelton
      © 2008 Marty Langdon
Chapter 03

          Weed Island to the Raven

I soon imagined a faraway island and began to thrive on it. There were two
hemp plants growing in the midst of a rainforest
by a soothing waterfall. In that
moist tropical setting, four sugar gliders leap from the tallest of trees to reconnect
with each other like trapeze artists on distant branches. Around a stagnant swamp,
sticky black frogs with bright yellow blotches communicate with each other by
bloating in tune. A short walk down one of the scenic paths leads to a gathering
of families who have arisen. They will partake of their morning duties in an
orderly fashion, and there will be no discord, for they are the perfect society.

The water rushing downstream is collected by the water carriers of the
It will be used for drinking, bathing, and cooking, so many trips
to the stream must be made. While each earthen vessel is composed of
clay and crafted by hand, when the rays of the sun; dry and harden it,
its composition becomes almost weightless. The insects are noninvasive,
and everyone is happy to be a part of one big family. A family that loves
and cares for one another.

A family that trades clothes for food has no need for money.
They know not what it is

In the center of this region stood a dormant volcano that rose to the
sky like an exquisite breast. Between straw huts in lush surroundings
and rows
of unending palm trees, a winding path led to the isle's core.

Apart from an innocent altercation by a strange and unassuming animal, the
town flourished. Everyone helped each other, and problems were minimal.

From time to time, the indigenous people of the land would adorn masks
and perform an elaborate ceremony called Kuro. The act of procuring an
astringent substance termed, Sinau for the purpose of curing infections.

Mealtime was never an issue, for the townspeople held the wooden
talisman in high regard. So long as they gave offerings, they never had
to worry about food. The slapping on the rudimentary crafted drum by
a small native boy was like a hypnotic pulse that began to draw out
the wild. Ever so slowly, did they make their presence known.

Just then, a twig snapped beneath the tiger's heavy paw.

                       Without warning, a slight tremor caused the earth to shake,
                                                  and the volcano erupted.

Molten rock oozed down the slopes of its incline in a steady and
continuous motion; and yet, for some strange reason, did not appear
to be hot. Neither did it seem to go anywhere, like electric fireplace
logs that sparkle and pop without emitting any heat to the touch.

Abruptly, the Goddess of the volcano emerged, causing the heavens to quake.

As the sky became black, the sun silhouetted behind the belt of Orion, made
the ocean tide rise. Storm winds raged until the wind became so severe that
it produced sea swells and ominous rogue waves. Curling up like an enormous
fist, it struck the sandy beach, bringing typhoons of utter destruction. A crackle
of thunder was so loud that the inhabitants of Palateca still tremble today.

When the rain came forth to soak the land, the volcano queen
dispersed herself into the air to become the morning dew.

Soon the favillous mound of extruded waste became nothing more than
a mask of hardened lava. Transparent and colorless like a piece of wood

done burning turns into a hollow, lighted shell of white ash. When the igneous
formation of the earth's magma settled down with a thud into a pillow
powdered charcoal, it disappeared
as though it had never happened.

Because of this, every tree in the jungle gave birth to a sweet sticky
commonly recognized as pommaretes, which fell to the soft earth
and broke
open on their own. As three tiny green ants with little red faces
decide to
investigate the matter, their antennas begin firing pods into the
air. This brings
them all out into the scorching sun. While a colony of ants
was pouring over
the speckle-colored fruit, a lady dressed in nothing but
a shawl made of butterfly
wings peered out from behind a tree. So curious
was this mysterious woman,
in trying to ascertain why the ants had been
drawn to such a substance.
She also noticed the atmosphere was changing.

As their abdomens
swelled, they crawled deep down into the spongy earth
and died.
All at once, the area became overpopulated by the green seedlings.

Weed Island had formed, and its occupants were most delighted.

                                           The Petards - Misty Island

The beautiful land of tiki dolls and magical beasts would unknowingly
play a Pied Pipers flute unto its citizens, who had now come forward
to pay homage to this wondrous plant, whose toxins are the lifeline of
an impoverished dream. Castaways from neighboring islands wash

ashore on primitive rafts made of wood and twine... They are griff.

                                                                              Pg 9

             Hula girls in grass skirts wearing their traditional leis
conjure images
of a life that could only be told,
                   through the words of the world's purest novel.

     Behold, my fictitious dream is alive and living in another century.

Long before its destruction was its inception. Where virginity was woman's gift
to man, and the man's prize for living was to treasure and adore her. The sincere
smiles are imprinted on the heart and embroidered on the landscape of the soul.
The laying of gifts before alters of stone is commonplace, whereas sacrifices of
human flesh only appeased the gods of temerity.

There are no timepieces on the island, for they would serve no purpose
at all. The wristwatch is reserved for the western world. And aside from
that, when the bells of evening toll, the night-time celebration begins.

Here women swivel their hips to enchanting melodies while another
offers the gentlemen upon arrival a refreshing beverage.

         Take her hand as she leads you to the water by the sacred cave to
         cleanse. As pure as an unclouded lake is the promise of eternal love,
         concealed within eyes overflowing. Allow yourself to be kissed and
         touched while carefully observing her every move. Gaze up into the
         adytum chiseled in moonstone, where the secrets of time are kept hidden. 

             For every man, there is a woman equally in need of a loving embrace.
One that consoles a hardened heart to uplift even the most apprehensive transgressor.

Yes, the courting ritual was a magical occurrence, and there were more than enough
places erected in the wilderness to procreate; fanciful lairs for the engaging of love.

How wonderful is the bearer of life?
Sweeter than any given fruit is she,
so be gentle.

How inviting are the eyes that allure me, than the hands and arms that shimmy up
and down their sides; like innocent serpents without sin in a garden of earthly delight.

What a calm and peaceful day it is in the valley of the mind. Where sun and
shadow are but a stone's throw away, and latitude and longitude come together
as one in a whole. Together they create hearty portions of dreams fed to small
eager mouths, like the pride of a mother caring for her newborn nestlings.

                                             *Thus was the challenge earned*

Near the volcano by the river of Rhees,
I climbed aboard a multicolored fish ship.

Pushing the little red button that said home, the roof closed like a convertible, and
motor turned on like a quiet car. We ascended from the ground in a way that only
helicopter could have and then fell to the sound of wings flapping. Within minutes,
the mechanical lifting of wings had transformed over time, proportioning itself into
the sight of a more modern aircraft. I said goodbye to Weed Island and the
estate of an animated mushroom city. Where love lives continuously,
there is no need
for law and order because today, my heart is pure.

As I lay on the bed with my eyes fixed on the drop ceiling tiles, a meditative trance would
dissolve them completely while sending me deeper and deeper in thought. I contemplated
the daily endeavor of traveling to and from the city each day as my stepfather has done for
the past eight years while working as a janitor. He would later serve as handyman before
being made superintendent. The managerial hierarchy he works for has no significance to
anyone apart from those who rent an office or floor in that habitation or those who strive
to maintain its upkeep. That building whose name I have entrusted is situated in the bustling
heart of midtown and was a contemporary structure in its heyday. With elaborate festoons
decorating its pilasters of stone, one could almost see the headlines from the New York Herald.

                       A booming city of industry caters to the masses
                     of immigrant workers now arriving at Ellis Island.
                  Here they will find work, and here they will call home.

Upon entering, one would see a dated cartouche above his or her head bearing the year
of completion. Also, an ornate coffered ceiling that I, as a child, would stare at like a mute
tourist. Nearby stood a fuliginous church whose appearance seemed to mock the inside of
a chimney. Before factories and automobiles, you were surrounded entirely by grass and

trees. The medieval beasts hanging from your facade are left to wither in the rain and
snow. They appear to be somewhat frozen in time, ever watching the passersby enter
and leave the sanctuary while ‘they themselves’ seem to have been extricated by celestial
beings poised high above, as the heavenly Father looks on in the spirited form of a cross. 

                                     Its demeanor could imply a message stating:

                                            “Let your sins be resolved here,
                                                and take them not with you
                                       when you depart from this holy place.”

                                                                              Pg 10

The dawning of the day was now upon me, where I lay elevated. My head propped up
on a comfortable pillow turned sideways. The juxtaposition of the cup and bottle had
not changed, and I found that to be fascinating. Like an indomitable warrior suffering
the setbacks of life, I rose to my feet and calmly drew the curtains. How interesting
are these two awkward legs of mine? Without notion or emotion, they just go...

                               Welcome to the land of the stoned!

As I approached the zenith of all conscious plains, I began to envision a sweltering city in
the heart of midday. Air conditioners trembling and horns blaring from impatient motorists
stuck in traffic at a standstill. Jackhammer's pounding away at a wounded street expose the
harsh virtues of an inner city's core. Directly in the middle of Mott Street and Canal was my
precise location. As I transcended upon midtown,
I could now see a composite sketch of a
skyscraper that had air conditioners instead of windows. As color and contrast collided,
it formed an astounding work of art before changing into a colorful jigsaw puzzle. 

The water dripping out of countless air conditioners was like a faucet in need
of a gasket, and before long, the trickle would become like that of an open
water main.
As it flowed from the units, it came to resemble a mini Niagara
that flooded the entire city. Soon there would be nothing left but a
gurgle of air bubbles rising to the surface on a quiet and desolate sea.

Suddenly, my mind grew dark. There, a demon sprouted
from a dead flower.
The face of indescribable horror was
now only inches from mine in a silver mirror
of antiquity.
My heart palpitated, and my eyelids impulsively opened.

It appears that, after generating so much energy on a concentrated level, I let my mind drift
away into the darkness where I became startled by this aberration; a nefarious dwarf with
gnarly face and a pocketful of utter despair. I would have closed my eyes again sooner, but
I honestly thought he might be hiding. I then realized, I would have to hone in on my basic
skills if I was going to get any resolve. I truly enjoyed the flowing patterns that took me deep
inside my own convoluted realm. But what I seemed to be lacking was the ability to transform
these mainstream ideas into anything substantial. I would have to meditate through closed
while searching for the focal point in objects without allowing the objects to generate
themselves. When this happens, we become nothing more than a representation of madness.

                                                                              Pg 11

                                            Through the eyes of a raven, I watch the city with apprehension.
                                                                                  It is time to go.                                        

Releasing myself from my perch on high, I flew gracefully into midtown on a north
wind breeze. When I saw the towering structure reaching up into the stratosphere,
I realized it was but a thimble to the surrounding monoliths. Its impeccable design
had been well configured to the exact angle in my mind where the sun hung heavy
on the black tar roof. A slight shadow could now be seen adhering
to the roof's edge,
before gradually creeping down the buildings structure.

When it covered the exterior face, the raven, who was I, swooped down to see Ramon, who
at ground level near the street sweeping. He whistled a tune like in those silent movies,
and I had absolutely no idea what that tune could be. Several vehicles passed by before
a dark green waste management truck turned to come up the street. Reminiscent in its
appearance of a sanitation truck, it had a shiny painting of Coney Island Tillie on
its side. That smiling countenance is perceived to be a character of intense joy.

This soot-belching monster sounded like it was having a stroke as it lurched forward
before pulling itself into gear. Upon accelerating, fluid spilled out from the rear compactor
where the hydraulically powered tailgate locks into place and onto the roadway where
Ramon was standing. This milky liquid created a stench so revolting that it could be detected
in outer space.
Witnessing this, Ray chases after the truck only to catch his foot in a pothole;
before barreling down the street like Oliver Hardy and into an arrangement of flowers.
Attempting to stand up, he shakes his fist at the world where squiggly lines of exaggerated
illustration highlight the obscenities that spurt from his mouth, like hyped up worms on
amphetamines, give credence to yet another filthy
and blemished Robert Crumb comic book.

A gentleman passing by in a neatly pressed gabardine suit and wingtip shoes reaches into
his pocket for change. But in haste lost a dime on the way. Slipping through his fingers, it
bounced, hitting the steel-reinforced curb where it froze in mid-air. It was at this very moment
that I, the raven, locked onto its image, having caught a glimpse of his own reflection in
the still light. The impression on the dime had faded, and the portrait the coin now bore
was that of the raven's own. Time was still moving a second per hour until the raven
blinked. When this happened, life was given back to the living where gravity reclaimed
the object, pulling it toward earth. As the raven head coin fell, it made its way through a
hole in a sewer cap and plummeted far below street level. Landing like a drop of mercury
in an inkwell, it was gone. Here, under the vaulted sidewalk, business was being carried
out in a most proficient way. One that involves large building plans and swaying lanterns.

                                                                              Pg 12

I followed the men in suits through catacombs of darkness, past the incessant echo
of sloshing feet in puddles of murky water. The tunnel soon split apart and the three
men were baffled. They merged to the right, but I went left, where the water appeared
to be diminishing. Something scurried past, and I figured it was probably just a rat
scampering about in the ruffled shadows of its own confinement. As I trudged on,
I was overcome with a feeling that I could no longer go back. With every step
I took, the tunnel narrowed behind me while it expanded out in front of me.

Eventually, I reached the end of the wall, with what appeared to resemble a cast
iron nautical valve control wheel to open it. Spinning around, I realized I was
in a vast isolation chamber that went on for miles without any end in sight.

I looked behind me, only to notice the strange-
looking wheel
had vanished in the dark.

From a distance, I heard a tremendous roar, beckoning the applause of millions.
The victor stood alone where the emperor hailed the crowd. I could see the ruins
of the Colosseum assembling all around me but shook off new thoughts forming,
before realizing, no longer was there an entry point. Neither was there an exit.
Upon walking, I came across something up ahead in the distance; an out-of-place
square on the floor. A phosphorescent shade of gleaming silver began flashing in
a form of Morse code, unrecognizable to me. In very little time, it was blinking
as fast as a strobe light. Plodding over to it, I looked down. The flashing stopped
when the granite tile that was once the color of Sea Pearl turned a bluish-grey.

Recklessly, I placed both feet down upon the square, and the trap door swiftly
snapped open. As if a hinge had suddenly broken.

Faster than the speed of sound, I barreled down the open shaft. Like, being hurled
into a well from a catapult before hitting the great expanse of water surrounding
cliffs like jelly. This embryonic fluid lapped the shore and gave life to whoever
touched it. Those opulent waves carried a reflection of the turquoise sky along
an inspiring course until, at last, the crest reached the banks of the escarpment.

                               Such a panoramic spectacle to behold. . .

In a guerite projected from the rocky hillside, a family of Spanish dwellers waves to

me in their contentment. How splendid is this day indeed, I thought to myself calmly.

I then waved back to them from beyond the glass curtain. They laughed and drank while
Margarita de Pembro sprinkled burnt orange rose petals from the smallest of turrets directly
above her Castilian shoreline. Like sparkling seashells, they fell, oh! so weightlessly, landing
all around me in this amniotic sea. The ocean looked like it was, bleeding as the glimmering
petals magically dissolved to become one with the briny deep. They then perpetuated
themselves into what appeared to be tiny fish-like creatures. The internal workings of these
aquatic organisms were pulsating as they expanded, and it wasn't long before they adapted
to the heavy water. Although when this happened, they became exceedingly visceral.

                                                                              Pg 13

Eagerly, they swarmed around me to create a current of centrifugal force until even they had no
control over it. As they vehemently lassoed my ankles,
an intense suction was formed, pulling me
under by my heels. “Leave me alone and go about your
way”, I thought, wriggling in the struggle.

They did not listen, for they had nothing to hear with.

Instead, I was yanked to the bottom of the ocean like a lead sinker.

On my way down, I visualized an old wooden ship jutting up from its watery grave.
The figurehead, still
attached to its decaying bow, breathed rather gently as I passed it.
Immediately, I
thought of the artisans of the world who gave life unto that which had
none. A block
of wood, a chunk of stone, or a canvas. Even the tattoo artist, per se.
Upon reaching
the vestige of what was once noted to be the continent of Atlantis, my
feet touched
down upon the arc of a flying buttress from some primitive cathedral.

I saw the great shell of Arcadia protruding out from where it had first settled back in the dawn of evolution.
When the mastodon grazed beside the brontosaurus, the air was so clean it delighted the senses.

I was then thrust into sand through bony layers of clay in salt erosion.

Past dinosaur fossils in hardened muck to the remains of Adam.
I then bored through a knothole in the plate of time, whereas after this,
I began to fall from the sky.

Upon my descent, I beseeched the Heavens in its glory and became the wind.

Looking down from above, I see Ramon in the same spot sweeping. His appearance
rivals that of an ant moving about, and when put in fast motion, he looked like a
fat little spider bouncing around. (I laugh
to myself at this insanity) Following my
movements, a solitary grey cat yawns as I take form
on the ground. Quietly, he gazed
at me from where he was sprawled out below a
double brass standpipe. His tail
shivering like a rattlesnake as he watches a tiny insect
scuttle away. It is too small
to play with and presents no challenge in the form of carrying
out a swift attack.

Don't let those tired eyes fool you.
They are the main ingredient of
a killing machine.

Ever hunting and always on the prowl, he tantalizes the moon.

                                          The sun descends rapidly

Our little city of Gotham is now quiet. The railways and elevated platforms that
have witnessed the commotion of the rush hour crowd have now been abandoned
for the night. The people have gone home, and the streets are now so
barren you
could almost say it’s peaceful. The only sound that can be heard is a
loud metallic
boom that seems to come out of nowhere. An ominous echo
that reverberates
through the city for miles, sending a chill up the spine of those walking alone.

Within itself, it carries a grim reminder of the day.
A lonely sound, so thought-provoking it can almost make a writer sigh.

Now is not the time for wandering.

It is a time to take in and process
the events of the day
with a warm nightcap, or a gentle embrace.

Across the street in the little Chinese restaurant that no one has ever been to,
the entire staff stands waiting. It's been almost forty years now without a single
customer. That is because, in 1946, young Feng Shi forgot to put the sign-up.
Not to worry though; no one would have come anyway, and besides, no one
has cooked in that restaurant in years. Even if someone did walk in, they
would have to wipe away years of dust, for the employees are merely ghosts
trying ever so desperately to be who they once were. Kind of like us, in a way.

The scene then changed sporadically and was gone.

The sun, now
overshadowed by the earth, exploded.
I floated in darkness to the
source of all that shimmers.
A wavering strand eclipsed by an ion
took me away.
Ninety thousand soldiers on a pinpoint through a hole
escorted me to a river of red.

Alas, I found the shore of noses!

To know of this uncertain place where ears make their ascent.
On wings of fashioned hay, a bright light shines.
Up into the atmosphere and away into the night,
they reach the geometric pleasure dome of brilliance.

                    The First Impression - All lead back to you

                                                                              Pg 14


Inkpop reviews for chapter 3

Born to blossom; Blom to perish - You have great imagery with great
characters. Your a good writer. You captured my attention at the start
and held it all the way until the end. Good job.

L. C. Candle - Your first paragraph reminds me of the Lord of the Flies. Take
that however you will, lol. And then you kind of just...go off the end with it and
you throw in a sentence that sounds like a three year old wrote it. My visual is
cracked. Your words have lost their vibe that they got in that first paragraph
because of the sentence "Just then a twig snapped beneath the tiger's heavy
paw!" Instead of this mature writing I was introduced to, I'm confused by simple
words. Simple sentences are terrific and commonly used words are great to, but
you always have to stay away from the writing style English teachers taught
you in middle school, it's very distracting and doesn't allow growth in your
writing, either. You have terrific imagery, terrific diction. I'm confused by the
chapter's plot because I've not read the whole thing, so I can't comment on
anything like that. I'd say work on your transitions as well which seem to read
very roughly and occur too quickly. You have good beginnings and such but your
formatting is odd (I.E.; *(The sun is falling rapidly)* ???) that may be something
that was established early on, I'm not sure, but it does look incredibly odd. It
also seems like you switch persons which makes the reading a bit odd. I mean
this is strong literary fiction, yes, but if you're going to write first person, please
try to make that person very visible amongst your imagery, like John Steinbeck
does in the narratives before almost every chapter in East of Eden. Again, good
literary fiction, although it does get confusing. Good job.


     This review was posted on Feb/24/22

Ella's, Jacob & Sarah's review

This was an absolute stunner of a chapter. It is our favorite so far.
We loved the descriptions of the villagers and nature in ‘Weed Island’

Our favorite line is:

When the rain came forth to soak the land, the volcano queen
dispersed herself into the air to become the morning dew.

Great use of italics, normal text, bold, and underlined text!

We still feel that the paragraphs should be broken up, or spaced out a little
bit more, instead of chunks of paragraphs and then one-liners following it.

women swivel their hips to enchanting melodies – made us feel like the island “ritual”,
which is amazingly done. It feels euphoric, drug-inducing. Our only concern with this
would be that close-minded readers could see this as “encouraging drug use”. We don’t
feel like it does, but you never now with sensitive readers nowadays.

The Welcome to the land of the stoned was such a great statement.
We are all stoners here, haha. We would love to be on Weed Island.

We love the use of the dwarf to bring the protagonist back to reality.
The “dream” sequence is done well, which is usually a very difficult
thing to do, but you describe the island so well, with the villagers,
the Volcano Queen, and the Tiger. We absolutely loved this!

We are very curious to know what is actually happening,
and how this ties in with the title ‘The Embryo Man’.

We cannot stress how much we loved this chapter, it was our favorite
of the three, and as a ‘trilogy’ each chapter holds its own weight, and
together they create a unique experience as we have never read before.

Once again, thank you for using us. We absolutely adore this project
and we would love to work with you on upcoming chapters! It is just
hard to find faults when the content is this good!!!


                                            This review was posted on Apr/4/22

                                       Lameez' review

   Beta-Read Report for 'The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe - Chapter 3'

                              Beta Reader: Lameez Rushin (Lameezisreal)

Overall Impression

This Chapter felt like a breath of fresh air. Between the absolute utopia in the opening
scene and the flying of the raven. If for no other reason than the serenity and natural
feel to the environments described.

Chapter Notes

This chapter felt linked to chapter one, as both chapters opened with serene natural
scenes. This one opened with a sort of utopia. Between the imagery and the harmony
among the denizens. When creating and describing a utopia like this one, it's easy to
get lost in the details and focus on the imagery but that is not the case. The focus was
exactly where it needed to be for as long as necessary and not one word too many.

Character Notes

As promised, we learned a little bit more about the Main Character's (MC) step father.
Not quite enough to discern his personality but, in time, I'm sure we will. I'd be remiss
if I didn’t mention how much I liked the freedom the men and women of the utopia
exuded. The people, the insects, the deities, as though societal expectations were not
welcome. Thus furthering the idea of the utopia.

Thoughts After Finishing The Chapter

It wasn't clear if the MC had transformed into a raven or if we were getting the point
of view of a character who had but this, in addition to the focus on the time slowing
down, almost alluded to the idea of powers. But I'm certain this will be clarified in
upcoming chapters. All in all, I'd say this chapter felt like the plot of the story had
begun and the world building had completed.

Thank you so much and I’m excited to see your next chapter!


                                               This review was posted on Apr/7/22

                                         alits29's review

             The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe: Chapter 3 - Reader Report

                                     Beta Reader's Report by Alitha Igloria (alits29)


This chapter has consistency with the previous chapters in revealing a situation
in a marvelous way. In it, I could feel I’m in the scene because the story is written
in a perfect display of the situation and scenery.

I feel that sense of appreciation from Charles to the people of this tribe in a village.
As an audience to this scenic beauty of the island, I feel rejuvenated due to the fact
that the aesthetic description and details of the opening part of the chapter have
given me fresh energy from mother earth nature itself.

The creator of this chapter display mastery in structuring details in such a manner that
the audience’s senses are being synchronized and linked with its experiences with Charles.
It’s not a surprise to witness the episodic series of illusions from Charles’s perspective.
But transcending from a human to a raven is like a paranormal event or magic.

In general, this type of literary work is a clear sample that the sky is the limit when we
create something, may it be an idea, a story, or any form of art. What limits an individual
to be a master in creation is his confidence to reveal his true self, because the true self
has a corresponding form of art. In this chapter, words are romanticizing the scenery
and are justified in such a manner that it appeals to the appetite of readers like me.

I also feel nostalgic at the end part since the writer set up the night into something with
low energy. I see how the mind of a man influenced by substance flies freely. And made
me discern, how come I feel that this person experiencing ecstasy from this prohibited
substance appears to be free from stress and issues or troubles in the workplace. While
the majority of the population is bound by the pressure of the norms to beat themselves
up to work hard in this life.


The scenic beauty of the location is imbodied in every detail showcasing the ambiance of
the place is so pleasant which gives you the feeling of accommodation. And this is a good
opening for this chapter.

The character spontaneously gives a metaphorical description of the volcanic activity of the
island which I find awesome because it’s supposed to be a horrific event but it was presented
as a typical ordinary drama of nature. Reading the aesthetic facts of the chapter-opening made
me remember watching a national geographic content about an islander’s life. And it’s very nice
to learn things about their way of life. Somehow, I envy them for having to live with nature and
freedom from the stress of urban life.


Charles showed another form of episodes as a result of the substance. It might be a progression
of his dependence on the substance he used. The raven is a symbolic representation of Charles as
he indulges in the hallucination dimension. But I am curious why of all birds, a raven was specifically
picked. Is there a significant meaning behind selecting such a bird?

I love how the character transcends into a bird. And the character experience as a bird allowed me
to be in that moment feel what it is like to be an aviary creature. And this made me see, that all living
creature has their own struggles. Big or small organism, shares the same way of life- to survive.

After finishing this chapter, I wonder why it was not cited here the specific substance used. But, as an
audience, again I enjoyed how Charles observe keenly the environment he is existing. This made me
feel present in that situation also.


This chapter exhibited a calm pace. Though there are scenes that share an emergence of action like the
volcanic activity. The flow of this chapter is not sophisticated. It showed a timeline of his travel from the
island to the city. But I feel there is a lack of information about his objective on that island. I was hunting
for details that indicates his goal in that certain place, But I’m frustrated, I feel like Charles is in that place
as a tourist having the time of his life.


I have no doubt on how the writer created this chapter. I just really admire how words are being woven
with each other to create great visual imagery that at some point convinces the audience to experience
the episode.Though it would be a great challenge for the average mind to contemplate such a manner
of writing in my own opinion, it’s poetry where words are romanticized to give birth to a certain situation.

Also, this chapter is very informative. I totally understood the details from the scenic view to volcanic
activity and animals since I teach science. And these will be a learning experience for other readers.


I appreciate how Charles describes women in this Chapter. It is very empowering how he cited the line . . .
”How wonderful is the bearer of life, Sweeter than any given fruit is she, so be gentle.” It recommends to
the audience the idea of how women should be treated because they deserve it as the bearer of life.

Absolutely on point. The mid part of the story particularly the raven part is really like a sequence of adventures.
From simple scenes of Ramon to a solitary grey cat. The changing scenes fascinate my mind. And this leads
me to reminisce about a movie where one scene transcends into an unexpected situation. This made me
contemplate, will these hallucinations go severe as the user progresses its dependency on the substance?

I mean substances do affect the neurotransmitter of the mind and it somehow contributes to decision making.


This chapter is a narration of the character’s experience. I was expecting a conversation but this is a chronicle
part so I just go with the flow of the scenes and trust the manner on which the writer presents it. But I like how
the details are narrated through the whole story.


The writer presented the chapter in a justified sequence. But the consistency is confusing because of the
sudden transition of episodes. In my own perception, this chapter reveals the same mode as the previous
chapters and I fully respect that. But to some audiences, might find this insignificant because the episodes
are providing meaningless reasoning for the story. I mean if they miss the message between the lines then
they will surely be lost as they go through the text.


The skill of using words to display a particular location or situation in an aesthetic detail is admirable. I have no
bad remarks on the setting of this chapter. Everything is well described. But I wonder, why is there an absent detail
about the substance. Or maybe just omitted it due to the sensible reason that it’s prohibited stuff. The details and
description are very enticing which makes an audience like me, feel the emotions involved in that scene.


The grammar in this chapter is not bad. Seems like it’s already furnished for publication. But I have confidence
that the writer checks it already because it’s perfect. The syntax well, I observe some sentences were becoming
a bit complex. But I believe in a freeform style. Just imagine if all genres or any literary work has to follow everything
then there would be monotony and this leads to failure because a writer or author is always unique. And they always
have different manner of making their masterpiece.


The ending is confusing to my discernment. Why is the level of energy at the ending is low? Is it because Charles is
getting tired or the substance is wearing out and his illusion has ended? Or just a simple experience of Charles that
requires no overthinking of the situation.

But to what significance is this chapter to the whole story?

If we are to contemplate this matter, my only answer is, that in life we all experience many things. May it be minor
or major, it is always is a part of a whole story. And now that the 3 chapters are done, I believe the curtain is now
completely open. And many things will be revealed in the next chapter.



                                The author speaks with Alitha

It's funny, because I also tend to envy people who like on an exotic and faraway
island. They have no bosses or rulers, but still, they have to worry about inclement
weather, being attacked by either insects or animals, and of course, their health.

The bird depicted therein is a raven. Ravens are symbolically associated death for they
are thought to be messengers of the underworld. Indeed, the raven is very significant
to my story. When you find "the winter raven" in my novel, be forewarned, for it is the
awakening of sorrow. When you see him again, it is the beginning of despair; and I
have been told in many different words, that it is unquestionably, the saddest chapter
to ever be written by mortal man.

The substance used was a very strong strain of marijuana, that when, through closed eyes,
I could almost envision all these things happening. I wanted to piece them together. I wanted
to complete the puzzle. And so, days later I worked on it until I had something to build a world
from. Marijuana in itself is not strong enough to ever visually hallucinate, unless you smoke
non-stop for an hour!

If ever you feel like sharing my writings with anyone, please feel free to do so.

It is true, that many readers want to know how these stories fit into the whole framework
of my novel itself. I like to tell them to not rush time. Take everything in like a deep breath
of fresh morning air, and then watch as the morning puts the pieces together on its own.
The story is simply a day in the life of a teenager, and I needed to remember that day,
so I would always be able to go back to it.

There are no absent details about the substance, as it was already mentioned in chapter 1.

A towel had been cleverly placed under the crack of my door
as an added precaution to prevent any mishaps from occurring.

Does she even know I'm up?

Six tokes on a bubbling instrument of smoking pleasure,
and I would find myself resonating toward the light of dreams,
which had, in fact, begun to commandeer my train of thought.

Which is approximately twenty minutes (((in real time))) from the end of chapter 1
to the end of chapter 3.

Some people tell me to eliminate the flowery language, the difficult words,
the far-fetched ideas and just write normal.And I tell them that if I wanted
to write a "See Spot Run" novel, then I would write children's novels.

I only write this way because I have an ability to do so.
I also have a yearning for wordplay that beckons me.

I'm not telling a reader to research the words, because I feel like I've already told them
in a sense.For example, "Nearby stood a fuliginous church whose appearance seemed to
mock the inside of a chimney." In other words, I have just told the reader that the outside
of the church has an appearance of soot. Just let the words guide you.

The next chapter seems to be a fan favorite, but will raise more questions, nonetheless!


                                               This review was posted on Apr/15/22

                                   nehanegi1905 's review
The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe: Chapter 3 -
Weed Island to the Raven

                                               Reader's Report by nehanegi1905

Hello Chas! Just finished reading the third chapter and what can I say……
I'm still in awe of how I'm able to write this down immediately after reading
the chapter. It is beyond phenomenal and the level of connection that I now
feel with everything that the boy is explaining. I can literally imagine that
entire island he was dreaming about.

I loved the Pied Piper reference. I think it's now that I have started
to feel a bit overwhelmed with what I just read and finding it difficult
to describe in words, which is funny because I'm a writer.

But it's so rare to come across something that is so dreamy and flawless
at the same time. Like I'm reading about a boy who is high and is imagining
things in his head and I feel like I'm the one who's experiencing it.

I just wanna thank you for giving me this opportunity to read this book.
I feel beyond honoured. I'm eagerly waiting for the next chapter.

Please let me know when you're ready to give me the fourth chapter.




                                               This review was posted on Apr/28/22

                                         sianiesl's review

    The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe: Chapter 3 - Weed Island to the Raven

                                                      Reader's Report by Siani

Hello, this chapter was simply transcendent and beautifully written once again,
thank you very much for allowing me to read another chapter.



Readability of Chapter 3.

In other words, how quickly did I read the chapter, how much did I enjoy it, and where did it drag?


Chapter 3 was full of alluring and bewitching detail into the mind and dreams of our character.
It was of a slower pace,allowing the reader to drift away with them through weed island and survey
Gotham through the eyes of the raven. At no point did the chapter drag for me, if anything each
sentenced flowed into one, and before I knew it the chapter was over.



Reader’s opinion. 

As a reader, what did I think of your plot, your characters, and your writing style?


I'm getting an understanding that the book may be more relating to the dreams and visions
of the character, more so perhaps than what happens to they within the present day. Having
this in mind when reading the chapter, it made me feel immersed within their mind, not knowing
what turn it would take, what would appear and be presented in front of me next. The mind can
be an extraordinary tool especially when high, and it was a privilege to see how it was working
within the characters head, and what they had created as an escape of reality.



Positives and negatives. What about your chapter did I love or hate?


The chapter was another piece of creative and artistic writing, and I loved being immersed in
Weed Island, the idyllic scenery, the nature taking a hold of the surroundings, and the simple yet
harsh life the families lead living there. Similarly, soaring through the clouds through the eyes of
the Raven, I became memorised with every word which was written, swallowed by all the detail
and careful delicate writing. I personally would have preferred the chapter to have stuck to one
fantasy, and delved even more deeper into it instead of having two, however I appreciate that the
mind can alter and adjust without prior manipulation and therefore in reality this is not possible.
I enjoyed being surrounded by Weed Island and I was regretful to leave so soon.


 Subsequent discussion of your manuscript.


Overall I was indulged by this third chapter, it was very rich in detail and description,
and now I feel like I have a better understanding and appreciation of how the novel
will unfold (although I may be wrong), I could read it with more open eyes.


All the best,




                                       Indu is my official editor - May/1/22


                                              This review was posted on May/1/22

                                     Tayyaba17's review

The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe: Chapter 3 - Weed Island to the Raven

                                                   Reader's Report by Tayyaba

                                 Weed Island to the Raven

Lost in the darkness, the life of the main character in the story is turned
upside down and he is not sure where it will take him to. As the chapters
pass by, it becomes overwhelming but challenging for the writer as well.

He has started to search for the means to overcome this sadness.
He wants to get this pain off his chest.

Imagining and questioning himself all day, always triggers him to find
a way to get his life back. By his writing, he has unfolded the unheard
emotions we go through but can’t say.

He is captivated by the enchanting beauty of women and he imagines
what magic a woman can spell on the man taking away all of his sorrows.
He believes that a woman is blessed with spiritual and physical harmony
and being in love with a woman can make life happier and complete.

The writer is in the paradox of memories. He is remembering through analogies
how he has come so far away from life. He has travelled as a raven through valleys
of life and death, experiencing joy and pain to its extreme, in his mind.

He finds this very challenging to leave this black hole of memories and embrace the
world outside. His peaceful life is disrupted by sudden sorrows. In the end, everything
withers away, the sadness and the happiness. And life tends to resume with neutrality.



                                              This review was posted on May/4/22

                                  aneelaiftikhar1's review

The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe: Chapter 3 - Weed Island to the Raven

                                                   Reader's Report by Aneela

This was a difficult chapter. Start was very detailed, the arrangement settled
by you is very soothing and complete.  The detail of valley was very clear, I am
really impressed by the research you have made like you have introduced kuru.

I liked the way you have portrayed volcanic activity.
But the detail of valley is too long. It will cause boredom to reader.
You have added so many things in one frame started from view of
valley, their family, volcano, fruit, dance, women n men etc.

The juxtaposition of the cup and bottle had not changed, and
I found that to be fascinating. The best thing is that you are
connecting the story. This line is connected with first chapter.

Why is he imagining so many things and situations?
Why he is not living his present life?
Why his thoughts end on his step father?

In every chapter his step father is involved.

The scene of raven and Ramon was very interesting like an online game.

This embryonic fluid lapped the shore and gave life to whomever touched it.
Those opulent waves carried a reflection of the turquoise sky along an inspiring
course, until at last, the crest reached the banks of the escarpment.

I looked behind me, only to notice the strange looking wheel had vanished in the dark.

Dear you are very good in writing dialogues, poetry, situations but in this chapter,
I was not able to get your main point or it may be clear in the next chapters.



                                              This review was posted on May/9/22

                                         kanchanninawe's review

  The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe: Chapter 3 - Weed Island to the Raven

                                                 Reader's Report by kanchan

FIRST IMPRESSION - What was your overall take on the chapter after reading it?

This chapter was quite better than the earlier one that is the chapter 2.
What I most liked about this chapter was there are beautifully written lines, they
are fantastically constructed. The explanation is of the scenes or thoughts is very
descriptive and elaborated really well. But there’s a little too much of living in the
imaginary world or into the characters head and less of story moving forward.

CHAPTER OPENING - Do you like the wording used?
Do you want to keep reading? Are you excited to turn the page?

Yes, the sentences are constructed really well, there is a flow to the
situations so it keeps the reader hooked to the plot of the story.

CHARACTER ANALYSIS - Did you find the character(s) too imaginative, or descriptive?
Are they exciting or boring in this chapter?

Considering the chapter was based on the character’s imaginative or inside the head
plot and the story revolved around that theme in this chapter it was quite a good read
but overall if you see it took a little too imaginative route and less of the reality.
It is still exciting to read.

PACE AND FLOW - Was it too fast/slow? Does it move smoothly,
or is it rough and choppy? Did you feel lost at all?

I didn’t feel lost in this chapter, the flow was gripping. Because of
being in the imaginary state only it felt a little into the head and slow.

LANGUAGE - Do you like the way the writer plays with words? Do you feel
that he knows what he is doing? Do you think those obscure words help or
hurt the story? Do you believe readers can learn something here?

Yes the words are very perfectly used, there’s no need for toning down or
toning up of the literature, it has a good flow and on every page I could find
one or more lines which uplifts the storytelling and feels poetic to read.

SENSITIVITY - Is there anything that offended you? Are you offended by
the illicit substances conveyed in this chapter?

No, there was nothing to get offended by.

DIALOGUE WRITING - Do you enjoy the narration of the author?
Was the message delivered in a clear and thoughtful manner?

The narration was pretty grasping, the message was delivered very well, it (the idea
what the author wanted to tell) was stretched a little regarding the imaginative state.

PLOT/CONSISTENCY - Was the plot on point? Do you like where it is going?

The plot idea was clear, I wouldn’t say it was to the point. It was surely
descriptive, the scenes were so beautifully written. I like where the story
is going, I hope to see more of character jumping in the present.

SETTING/DESCRIPTION - Is it fine the way the author described his surroundings?
Should more attention be paid to detail?

This chapter elaborates some of the best descriptions till now, and
doesn’t require any more as already many pages has the crux of it.

GRAMMAR/SYNTAX - Does the wording confuse you?
Does the writing excite you, even though it doesn't entirely make sense.

The wordings surely makes sense and does make
reader look forward to the upcoming story turns.

FAVORITE QUOTES/PASSAGES - Did anything the writer stand out?
Were there any sentences/phrases that impressed you?

I guess there were many which I liked in this chapter, few of them-

Page 4 - What a calm and peaceful day it is in the valley of the mind. Where sun
and shadow are but a stone’s throw away, and latitude and longitude come together
as one in a whole. Together they create hearty portions of dreams fed to small
eager mouths, like the pride of a mother caring for her newborn nestlings.

Page 6- . But what I seemed to be lacking was the ability to transform these
mainstream ideas into anything substantial. I would have to meditate through
closed eyes while searching for the focal point in objects without allowing the
objects to generate themselves. When this happens, we become nothing more
than a representation of madness.

Page 8- Faster than the speed of sound, I barreled down the open shaft.
Like, being hurled into a well from a catapult before hitting the great expanse
of water surrounding the cliffs like jelly. This embryonic fluid lapped the shore
and gave life to whoever touched it. Those opulent waves carried a reflection
of the turquoise sky along an inspiring course until, at last, the crest reached
the banks of the escarpment.

OVERALL THOUGHTS/ENDING - How do you feel on an emotional level?
Did it make you want to turn the page or close it?

Overall the chapter was fun to read, to go through the mind of the character
with living in the world which is beautifully described which makes reader
imagine and enjoy it completely.


                                          This review was posted on May/4/22

                                     aid_aid's review

          The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe: Chapter 3 - Reader Report

                                            Beta Reader's Report by Astuti

1. The tenses in the initial text of the chapter are not proper. It looks abrupt.
The first line is fine, the second follows a past tense and passive voice while
the rest of the lines carried an active voice to complete the imagination of yours.
Maybe you can restructure the second line as “in my imagination, there are two
hemp plants growing amidst a rainforest by a soothing waterfall….”.

2. On the same line of corrections: “In the center of this region stood a dormant
volcano” should be written as: in the center of this region was situated a dormant
volcano or there was a dormant volcano standing in the center of this region.

3. Recklessly, I placed both feet down upon the square and the trap
door swiftly snapped open. As if a hinge had suddenly “broken”.

4. , a family of Spanish dwellers “waves or waved” to me in their contentment.

5. As for the overall review, the flow of the story is well maintained. The depth of your
imagination could be nicely conveyed by the means of the words you have used.

6. The poetic flow of the paragraphs intermingles with the rich vocabulary
and rhythmic mixture of climax and surprises to fulfill the aim of the chapter.

7. There is a sense of calmness in the variety of plays that take place in the story.

8. The description of the town at first was enough to have
me thinking about how beautiful could it possibly look

9. Then the shift to the raven’s eyes added a new perspective and understanding

10. Even under the water, the connection depicted
between the material world things was just amazing.



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