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Date Posted: 15:51:13 11/15/03 Sat
Author: Raphaela
Author Host/IP: webcacheB03a.cache.pol.co.uk / 195.92.168.165
Subject: Re: Monsoon II
In reply to: Rafaél 's message, "Monsoon II" on 15:02:28 11/15/03 Sat

Excellent. Your use of the senses and descriptive language conveys the atmosphere well. It reminded me of when I was working in and then travelling through Northern India (although I realise it is not set there) a couple of years ago, which was also during the monsoon season.

I look forward to reading more - you could develop this into a novel in case you had not already considered it.

Would you like me to link The Chasm to Unicorn? Let me know if so.

Kind regards.

Raphaela



>.
>
>
>
>
>
>A satisfying clunk, the door to my room closed while I
>stand wringing the handle to
>confirm satisfactory closure. As I descend a few steps
>at a time in a manner which
>could well announce my arrival at the bottom in
>advance, the smell of cooking greets
>my sense of smell like a rabbit might a hawk.
>And now the confusion, rice at breakfast time, not too
>sure about the dumpling like
>objects floating like clouds in a sepia sky,
>glistening as I attempt to capture their form.
>Seated, I am now pondering the wisdom of my little
>knowledge of local dishes and
>thinking a complete ignorance would possibly comfort
>me more.
>Being the optimist I am, my palette desperately
>attempts to glean enlightenment from
>what appears very similar to the water in a pan after
>boiling shrimps.
>The fermented maize dumplings are not that bad, and
>satisfy a grumbling void rather
>more than the notion that it can be chewed by the
>locals in being prepared, a little gem
>of wisdom passed onto me by a friend in England prior
>to my departure, I can easily
>recall his accompanying chuckle. Retrieving the
>crumpled note from my back pocket
>I head for the phone, and realise I need to convert
>some currency first.
>Once again the woman I saw when I arrived, is sat
>behind the reception counter and
>bids me a good morning as I indicate my departure and
>that I will be back later.
>Stepping out of the hotel door, the bright sunlight
>quickly subdued as a pair of dark sunglasses return to
>roost on their familiar perch.
>
>In the street outside a whole selection foodstuffs
>adorn long tables and the sound of
>chickens contained in something that looks like a
>large lobster pot made from cane.
>Dried fish and a whole variety of fruits seem very
>still when compared with arms
>that gesture a slice off their price.
>As I wander in no particular direction along the
>street I notice that almost all the
>people trading are women dressed in brightly coloured
>garments while children chase
>each other between the stalls, laughing, smiling
>broadly as their attention turns to me.
>By time I reach the end of the street at least a dozen
>pairs of eyes and cheeky grins
>now hot on my heels, reminds me I am not a chameleon
>and this is not England.
>I turn on the spot, in unison they all halt a good
>five paces short of where I am
>and I enquire if they can direct me to the bank. Their
>gestures point to the middle of
>street I am about to enter and a woman I assume to be
>the parent of at least one of the
>children explains that the bank is over there, and
>will not be open yet.
>Her smile held high, And then gone, As for a moment
>thoughts abound as it dawns
>Alone I am, and definitely here for what?……………. A girl
>with a Smile for me?
>Or a trap called desire from a-far, for is who then
>caught when moment does fall
>to enclose………………………………..again, I glance her smile, the
>bank is still
>closed for a while.
>
>
>
>
>.

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