E.A Rumfield
07-26-2012, 11:55 PM
Haven't quite finished this yet, but I'd like some advice.
The notes are put out into space filling the air with sweet but mournful music. The sound, the smells, everything is so charming. The smoke from his cigarette floats gracefully into the atmosphere like his dreams, like his mind. There is something powerful, something so sincere and true in the world today that the man cannot help but smile. A young man in a new and strange, glorious place, where unknown treasures and unknown sorrows lay within the reach of ones stride. Here he is free, from society and restrictions. In this new climate a wild man is born.
These thoughts, these strong feelings have been welling inside since he first smelled that sweet clean air and now, they are almost uncontrollable. He feels the way you sometimes do when you had too much to drink, but this is not brought upon by substance. Life has begun a new. All is so musical in this forgotten place. The wind sings a tragic song through the trees and passes through their leaves a bright whistle. Listening to the sound of the river cascading against the rocks he is transported to another place, some higher plane of mind. Finally and completely he feels he has annexed himself from his past, from the people and their trivialities. Here everything carries a luster a certain purity he has never seen before. Here in this new born place his mind feels at rest.
A tap on the shoulder snaps him out of his dream like state and he turns around startled by the un-idyllic face that lay before him.
“Sorry to startle you, I am Matt Huskins and you must be Charles. There are not too many white people here and it's always easy to spot the ones who don't know what they're doing. You'd be good to stick with me kid I know how to deal with these people trust me. “ He says with a forced friendly chuckle leading him out of the square.
Reminded, by the mans fast pace, of the world he left, he seeks a retreat.
“We are going to hang out in town for a few days, we are still waiting on the arrival of some people. I'm the financier of this little project here.' He paused and pulled something from his shirt. 'Care for a cigar, no? Something a little harder huh. Yea. I know you let me tell you...”
“I would just like to see my room, I'm a little overwhelmed . I need to rest.”
“Ohh sure of course. This way.” Obviously insulted by the interruption of his cordial attempt.
He had the greasy and ugly look of a swindler and when Charles thought of it more he understood why he seemed to love the place so much. He spent his days selling snake oil to the poor uneducated inhabitants of the town. Deal with these people? You don't have to know how to deal with anyone you just have to have a small amount of humanity and compassion. On that thought he feel asleep.
He awoke the next morning with such a feeling that he was reborn. He went out to the street and starting sketching the shore line. The sun rose as an orange ball of fire and reflected vibrantly against the turquoise mirror. Children were playing carefree in the morning sun while their mothers and sisters were hard at work, carrying water or wheat or herding livestock. The older men sat around selling goods, smoking cigarettes and drinking. The younger men were out fishing or hunting. He joined in a game of soccer the children were playing.
“What a beautiful life,' he thought. “And we don't understand it. We try to change them and civilize these people. Why? So they can become as wretched as us. So we can put Coca-Cola machines on every corner and sell them electronics. What a bull**** life. There are so few untouched places left in the world and I am standing on the shore of one of them.”
The men with agile feet were launching boats into the water and preparing nets for today's catch. He thought about what it would be like to live their lives. Hard work and then fun. Nothing to regret nothing to desire. To live and die by the land and the sea.
He felt something like envy but he quickly reprimanded himself. He decided to go get something eat. He walked up to a vendor and began speaking with him in broken language. Despite the communication barrier he was able to buy a meal. He sat down in the grass outside an open field and ate. Later walking back to his room he saw that two new members had arrived. A man of about thirty that he recognized as the famous adventurer Samuel Wagner and a beautiful young native women. She couldn't have been more then twenty.
He was captured by this being like a moth in the light. The way she moved her slender limbs, strong yet graceful, and even at such a distance he sensed something untamed in her. He was spellbound, by the same force that mesmerized him upon arrival, that when she looked at him he put his head down and quickly walked away. He felt unworthy to gaze upon her and ashamed to be in hers. “Such a pure and unspoiled being and me a pathetic and pitiful weakling.” He was so drawn to her but he promised himself he would stay away from her. A noble act he thought.
Trying to busy himself in the life of the town Charles was intruded upon by the man he met the previous day, Matt.
“Hey I saw you sneaking around the rooms before, she's really something isn't she. Yea Samuel found her and took her on as a translator. She speaks English do you believe that. But is she headstrong, she hates me I can tell already, not that I'm surprised.”
He looked at him half listening wishing he would stop talking. “Talk, talk, talk. Nothing but words all the time. And he doesn't know the meaning of a single one of these sounds.” He said to himself as the world he thought he left came crashing in, unmerciful and relentless. “The difference between these people and ours is they don't need words to describe how they truly feel. While we invent things and confuse things with language.”
Over the next few days the remainder of the crew arrived. It was a small team made up partly of students and partly of professionals. There were scientists, biologists, experts in anthropology and human genetics. Then there were those who knew the jungle and her traps and dangers. Charles tried to stay out of sight and mind but failed. Actually he proved himself useful and intelligent despite his best efforts. As a writer and photographer he made his way on this trip as purely an observer, but life has only room for participants.
Charles stood at the edge of the great forest and contemplated his journey into the great unknown. From where he stood nothing could be seen of its interior. The foliage was thick and concealed from Charles some secret. The venture began into the darkness. The sun shone dimly through the canopy to the floor below. Yet it was still unbearably hot. With a constant swing of the machete the group achingly moved forward.
He thought about the first men to plunder and pillage the lush landscape. Colonization and the end of the world as the inhabitants knew it. He thought of the ancient people watching Spanish ships sailing towards the coast. Mechanized death, great wooden sharks. He thought that his foot did not belong on this fertile soil, that somehow it was a vulgarity. Then he looked towards young Johanna as she effortlessly marched at the head of the group while he struggled to keep up. Her movements were graceful and she raised her foot and landed it with such softness. Never a misstep never a stutter. Pure and complete. He faltered on the rough uneven terrain. Up steep slopes and down steeper ones.
The group came to a rest at a subtle clearing. The sun refracted through the trees creating a beautiful maze of light, shadows and green.
“I never thought it would be this hard.” exclaimed Charles collapsing to the floor. “And the bugs.”
“Toughen up!” remarked Michele in a playful tone, jostling Charles nearly causing him to lose his balance. Michele was as rugged as she was beautiful and she strongly rejected her aristocratic background. Such a compulsion to experience the raw, wild and dangerous side of life is what drew her out to this wilderness, coupled with a desired to be famed and admired.
“No I have to agree with Charles. I could never have imagined what this would have been like.”
Matt broke in greedily sipping at a canteen.
Sam and Derrick both sat down, removed there boots and changed their socks.
“Yes. Everyone should probably change their socks. We still have a ways ahead of us.”
“How is everybody holding up? We only have a few more hours till we make camp tonight so lets finish up and get moving.” Samuel stood up and urged the group to do the same.
Following rumors that a previously undiscovered civilization lay somewhere deep in the Peruvian jungle. Having progressed independently for thousands of years the young crew were eager to study their behavior and culture. A previous group stumbled upon the city and only one man returned half crazy telling outrageous stories of a city made of gold. It was not from this world, some kind of afterlife that human eyes were not worthy of. No one knows what happened to the rest of his outfit. The bodies were never found. That is not unusual for this part of the world. Many dangers await on just the other side of a bush. Wild animals, guerrilla fighters and drug cartels to name a few. Everyone in the group knew and understood they were marching head first into danger and perhaps wouldn't be there if they were not.
They walked along a while longer none of them speaking, each more enthralled by the beauty of the forest then the next. Samuel raised his hand, a signal to stop and the crew swiftly and obediently replied.
The notes are put out into space filling the air with sweet but mournful music. The sound, the smells, everything is so charming. The smoke from his cigarette floats gracefully into the atmosphere like his dreams, like his mind. There is something powerful, something so sincere and true in the world today that the man cannot help but smile. A young man in a new and strange, glorious place, where unknown treasures and unknown sorrows lay within the reach of ones stride. Here he is free, from society and restrictions. In this new climate a wild man is born.
These thoughts, these strong feelings have been welling inside since he first smelled that sweet clean air and now, they are almost uncontrollable. He feels the way you sometimes do when you had too much to drink, but this is not brought upon by substance. Life has begun a new. All is so musical in this forgotten place. The wind sings a tragic song through the trees and passes through their leaves a bright whistle. Listening to the sound of the river cascading against the rocks he is transported to another place, some higher plane of mind. Finally and completely he feels he has annexed himself from his past, from the people and their trivialities. Here everything carries a luster a certain purity he has never seen before. Here in this new born place his mind feels at rest.
A tap on the shoulder snaps him out of his dream like state and he turns around startled by the un-idyllic face that lay before him.
“Sorry to startle you, I am Matt Huskins and you must be Charles. There are not too many white people here and it's always easy to spot the ones who don't know what they're doing. You'd be good to stick with me kid I know how to deal with these people trust me. “ He says with a forced friendly chuckle leading him out of the square.
Reminded, by the mans fast pace, of the world he left, he seeks a retreat.
“We are going to hang out in town for a few days, we are still waiting on the arrival of some people. I'm the financier of this little project here.' He paused and pulled something from his shirt. 'Care for a cigar, no? Something a little harder huh. Yea. I know you let me tell you...”
“I would just like to see my room, I'm a little overwhelmed . I need to rest.”
“Ohh sure of course. This way.” Obviously insulted by the interruption of his cordial attempt.
He had the greasy and ugly look of a swindler and when Charles thought of it more he understood why he seemed to love the place so much. He spent his days selling snake oil to the poor uneducated inhabitants of the town. Deal with these people? You don't have to know how to deal with anyone you just have to have a small amount of humanity and compassion. On that thought he feel asleep.
He awoke the next morning with such a feeling that he was reborn. He went out to the street and starting sketching the shore line. The sun rose as an orange ball of fire and reflected vibrantly against the turquoise mirror. Children were playing carefree in the morning sun while their mothers and sisters were hard at work, carrying water or wheat or herding livestock. The older men sat around selling goods, smoking cigarettes and drinking. The younger men were out fishing or hunting. He joined in a game of soccer the children were playing.
“What a beautiful life,' he thought. “And we don't understand it. We try to change them and civilize these people. Why? So they can become as wretched as us. So we can put Coca-Cola machines on every corner and sell them electronics. What a bull**** life. There are so few untouched places left in the world and I am standing on the shore of one of them.”
The men with agile feet were launching boats into the water and preparing nets for today's catch. He thought about what it would be like to live their lives. Hard work and then fun. Nothing to regret nothing to desire. To live and die by the land and the sea.
He felt something like envy but he quickly reprimanded himself. He decided to go get something eat. He walked up to a vendor and began speaking with him in broken language. Despite the communication barrier he was able to buy a meal. He sat down in the grass outside an open field and ate. Later walking back to his room he saw that two new members had arrived. A man of about thirty that he recognized as the famous adventurer Samuel Wagner and a beautiful young native women. She couldn't have been more then twenty.
He was captured by this being like a moth in the light. The way she moved her slender limbs, strong yet graceful, and even at such a distance he sensed something untamed in her. He was spellbound, by the same force that mesmerized him upon arrival, that when she looked at him he put his head down and quickly walked away. He felt unworthy to gaze upon her and ashamed to be in hers. “Such a pure and unspoiled being and me a pathetic and pitiful weakling.” He was so drawn to her but he promised himself he would stay away from her. A noble act he thought.
Trying to busy himself in the life of the town Charles was intruded upon by the man he met the previous day, Matt.
“Hey I saw you sneaking around the rooms before, she's really something isn't she. Yea Samuel found her and took her on as a translator. She speaks English do you believe that. But is she headstrong, she hates me I can tell already, not that I'm surprised.”
He looked at him half listening wishing he would stop talking. “Talk, talk, talk. Nothing but words all the time. And he doesn't know the meaning of a single one of these sounds.” He said to himself as the world he thought he left came crashing in, unmerciful and relentless. “The difference between these people and ours is they don't need words to describe how they truly feel. While we invent things and confuse things with language.”
Over the next few days the remainder of the crew arrived. It was a small team made up partly of students and partly of professionals. There were scientists, biologists, experts in anthropology and human genetics. Then there were those who knew the jungle and her traps and dangers. Charles tried to stay out of sight and mind but failed. Actually he proved himself useful and intelligent despite his best efforts. As a writer and photographer he made his way on this trip as purely an observer, but life has only room for participants.
Charles stood at the edge of the great forest and contemplated his journey into the great unknown. From where he stood nothing could be seen of its interior. The foliage was thick and concealed from Charles some secret. The venture began into the darkness. The sun shone dimly through the canopy to the floor below. Yet it was still unbearably hot. With a constant swing of the machete the group achingly moved forward.
He thought about the first men to plunder and pillage the lush landscape. Colonization and the end of the world as the inhabitants knew it. He thought of the ancient people watching Spanish ships sailing towards the coast. Mechanized death, great wooden sharks. He thought that his foot did not belong on this fertile soil, that somehow it was a vulgarity. Then he looked towards young Johanna as she effortlessly marched at the head of the group while he struggled to keep up. Her movements were graceful and she raised her foot and landed it with such softness. Never a misstep never a stutter. Pure and complete. He faltered on the rough uneven terrain. Up steep slopes and down steeper ones.
The group came to a rest at a subtle clearing. The sun refracted through the trees creating a beautiful maze of light, shadows and green.
“I never thought it would be this hard.” exclaimed Charles collapsing to the floor. “And the bugs.”
“Toughen up!” remarked Michele in a playful tone, jostling Charles nearly causing him to lose his balance. Michele was as rugged as she was beautiful and she strongly rejected her aristocratic background. Such a compulsion to experience the raw, wild and dangerous side of life is what drew her out to this wilderness, coupled with a desired to be famed and admired.
“No I have to agree with Charles. I could never have imagined what this would have been like.”
Matt broke in greedily sipping at a canteen.
Sam and Derrick both sat down, removed there boots and changed their socks.
“Yes. Everyone should probably change their socks. We still have a ways ahead of us.”
“How is everybody holding up? We only have a few more hours till we make camp tonight so lets finish up and get moving.” Samuel stood up and urged the group to do the same.
Following rumors that a previously undiscovered civilization lay somewhere deep in the Peruvian jungle. Having progressed independently for thousands of years the young crew were eager to study their behavior and culture. A previous group stumbled upon the city and only one man returned half crazy telling outrageous stories of a city made of gold. It was not from this world, some kind of afterlife that human eyes were not worthy of. No one knows what happened to the rest of his outfit. The bodies were never found. That is not unusual for this part of the world. Many dangers await on just the other side of a bush. Wild animals, guerrilla fighters and drug cartels to name a few. Everyone in the group knew and understood they were marching head first into danger and perhaps wouldn't be there if they were not.
They walked along a while longer none of them speaking, each more enthralled by the beauty of the forest then the next. Samuel raised his hand, a signal to stop and the crew swiftly and obediently replied.