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Through a shattered windscreen 03.05.08


goldenlangur

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goldenlangur

Through a shattered windscreen

 

 

Through a shattered windscreen in bursts of lightning behind granite clouds we see an elephant cross the road. I turn off the engine. Another follows, then another, six in a row. Slowly they amble one behind the other. The areca palms strewn by the wind across the highway are no obstacle to them.

 

We hold our breath. We have no idea what hit the glass, which now glints with myriad patterns each time the sky lights up. Will one of the elephants turn its attention on us and decide to explore our presence at this late hour on this isolated stretch of the international highway between India and Bhutan? Without words, we each know that the other remembers news reports of elephants rampaging villages and killing inhabitants. Our Suzuki van seems like a little tin amidst the trees, which swivel their massive heads in the gusts and the rain, which whips the palm fronds over the roof and the windscreen.

 

But the elephants seem intent on a journey beyond this storm-ravaged place. Their calm walk seems to suggest as if they are disconcerted by this excessive display by the elements. We dare not switch on the engine and the headlights. But how long are we to wait? Before we can even drive on, one of us has clear some of the trees to make way for the van to go through.

 

A shaft of light hits the windscreen and we feel the rain and wind on our face. Part of the windscreen has slid away into the water gushing over the black -topped road. Without a thought I switch the lights on. We both leap out and drag the palms to one side –just enough space to wiggle through. Then we drive into the darkness, wind and rain as never before.

 

1 hour.

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Hi gl, This is very exciting. I enjoyed it very much. I know what it is like to be driving in a storm with trees down or coming down, it is a frightening experience. But I have never had to hide from elephants, that is so very cool.

 

I am wondering about the use of "which" twice in this passage.

 

goldenlangur wrote:

Our Suzuki van seems like a little tin amidst the trees, which swivel their massive heads in the gusts and the rain, which whips the palm fronds over the roof and the windscreen.

 

What if you eliminated the comma after trees and deleted the comma after rain, add "and", delete the 2nd "which" and change whips to whip ? That might give a more urgent feel to the image and smooth out the line a bit.

 

"Our Suzuki van seems like a little tin amidst the trees which swivel their massive heads in the gusts and the rain and whip the palm fronds over the roof and the windscreen."

 

I have noticed the "1 hour" at the bottom of your writings before, what is this significance?

 

I am enjoying these prompts very much. I have written nothing since we began the clean up process at the Connection. I hope to use some of these prompts to inspire one or two poems as I noticed you have already done. Thank you for this inspiration and sharing your work here for us to enjoy.

 

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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goldenlangur

Hi Tink,

 

Thank you for your close read of this prompt piece. You're quite right about the repetition of "which" in the passage you've highlighted and indeed when read after the rush of the prompt writing I wonder if I need to fix many more details. In fact if I rewrite this, it might change altogether! The thing about writing within a deadline, I find is that I'm able to ransack corners of my memory and even imagination I had no idea existed!! The 1 hour is the time in which I wrote the prompts.

 

But I'm so glad that the frightening encounter with the elephants came across for you. They meant no harm but in the middle of a raging storm on a lonely, deserted stretch of the international highway at a late hour, everything seems to take on a magnified dimension.

 

You have written some memorable prompt pieces, Tink. I wish you luck with your enormous task at the other site and hope that you will explore this mode of writing, when you can spare some time.

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Wow GL! You very well magnage to engage the reader in this very exciting piece. I have no experience of driving in storms. But when we lived in Abbottabad, we used to come to Peshawar by car and usually we would drive at night. I love night travels. The moon accompanies you throughout the journey and generally every one's asleep icon_smile.gif ... and then if u ain't driving its real fun! icon_wink.gif

 

Sorry for the digression icon_redface.gif but I really enjoyed this read.

 

Thanks for sharing your works with us GL!

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goldenlangur

No need for apologies summayya. I've enjoyed your sharing experiences of night drive.

 

 

summayya wrote: I love night travels. The moon accompanies you throughout the journey and generally every one's asleep
icon_smile.gif
... and then if u ain't driving its real fun!
icon_wink.gif

 

Thank you for this wonderfully lyrical response icon_smile.gif

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra

Goldenlangur. This exciting prose piece gave me a picture or a scene of a jungle and some torpedo of elephants. I like how you kept the attention and curiosity - what would happen? icon_smile.gif. Let me ask you, is this really happened to you? If happened, that it is really a big experience.

Here I find out that many people believe that the pendents - elephants to keep them to watch on east - brings a good luck icon_smile.gif so you see how they can be very worth in other cases icon_smile.gif.

 

I loved the last line its working for me so peaceful after that incredible journey:

 

Then we drive into the darkness, wind and rain as never before.

 

Wonderful done Goldenlagur

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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