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Rated: E · Other · Environment · #1374400
a soft story upon reflection of vietnam
THE WIND


The wind blew over the smoking ruins, over the scorched earth. It carried with it the sickly sweet smell of burnt flesh and the acrid odor of cordite. The wind flowed over the bodies of the dead, whether they be friend or foe.
It swept over the twisted wreck of a military vehicle, burning its driver still lying in the wreckage. It billowed up over the rolling hills, though valleys and even the highest mountain until once again it swept over the trees and the damp jungle air joined it to make a foul stench. Eventually it reached the coast and swept down across the sun bleached beach where the heat of the sand caused it to rise up and dash across the water. The swirling aerial current lifted and dropped the wind as if raced along over the ocean sometimes with great speed and sometimes hardly moving at all. It pushed sailboats and joined with rainstorms to buffet a struggling tramp steamer. Waves are pushed high and they foam and break in patterns until they reached the beach. Surfers rode the waves and enjoyed the breeze which was now cool and refreshing



Still the wind continued on up into the hills rising toward the spiraling peaks before it. As it rose it dropped the moisture that it had collected over the open water. Creating wetness to feed the trees with the much needed rain. The rain eventually turned to snow as it rose to the very peaks of the mountains.
It slipped down the other side of the mountains getting new moisture as it went. Eventually topping the high blocks of rock in its never ending journey

Now over the peaks it rushed on with frenzy down the barren slopes. It rushed into the pine forests brushing the boughs and causing a few pine cones to fall from their protected branches.
It pushed its way down the upper valley and across a meadow rustling through the long dry grass rippling and flowing through the thin stalks making a cracking sound as the heads banged and popped against each other.

It breezed along past trees and meadows until it flowed dramatically into a beautiful river valley where it joined with the turbulent water to race along the


steep and fast flowing waters. Past rapids, pool and waterfalls until the watercourse started to change. The rocky heights gave way to plains and fields. From mountain crest to farms and towns. The river slowed and now became a slowly meandering river. The wind seemed impatient with its watery friend and now moves ahead making circular ripples across the quiet waters.

It swung through willows creating an almost eerie sound. Like the sound of people crying in pain and death. It reached an old rusty iron bridge spanning the quiet stream. In the centre of the bridge a young woman was standing. It made the light summer dress flap about her legs. She held firmly to a folded piece of paper. The wind made every effort to snatch the paper from the woman but she held firmly. With her long red hair flowing in the gusting wind she looked again at the paper and read again the words: We regret to inform you…. She cried and the wind blew on.

Word count 551
© Copyright 2008 dblameck (David) (dblameck at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1374400-The-Wind