Elshender: A Tale of a Poor Man


A few of the other passengers moved slowly away sensing that they were in the midst of a mad man and this helped to filter out some of the din from their ceaseless yapping. The water had lost the briny-waft that he’d begun to grow sick of during the weeks he’d spent aboard the Roderick. He was now able to smell the land around him. Trees were being burnt somewhere. Somewhere else, grass had been freshly cut. The water below him gave off a pungent, sweet aroma. His own bodily sweat mingled with these. Animal manure, be it horse, cow or whatever else lived on this land, made its presence known. The noise of the birds echoed from the trees on the river’s banks. Small animals darted in and out of the water as the swell from the boat pushed up to them and broke against the banks. Light reflecting ripples on the water gave away the presence of fish picking at food on its surface. The thwack of timber being cut in the distance could just about be heard as the steady pulse accompanying all the other sights, sounds and smells.

About the textual silence project...

...reading, thinking, and thinking about reading... ...and then writing... View all posts by the textual silence project...

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