My heart bursts its banks, spilling beauty and goodness. I pour it out in a poem to the king, shaping the river into words. (Psalm 45:1)

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TOPIC OF THE MONTH - SEPTEMBER

1. Read the topmost post, then click on "comments".
2. Read the last comment to see the most recent addition to the story.
3. Copy/past the entire story to date into a new comment box.
4. Add a further three words.
5. Click on Comment as. If you are signed in, your name will appear. Click on Publish.
6. If you're not signed in, click the small dropdown arrow, and select Name/URL. Give us the name we know you as, and click on Publish.

Remember! This is meant to be a story!
Have fun!

Monday, 23 September 2013

TOTM September A Story in ONE SENTENCE. 8

The elephant lowered his head towards the glimmering water and took a firm grip of the oar floating past. He raised it high over the crocodile who was lurking menacingly in the reeds. A hunter watched the scene, his boat helpless in the thick vegetation where his rifle lay beyond reach. If that croc swam closer to him, he'd be trapped between the croc and elephant.

Suddenly a sound of cracking wood filled the air. From right behind him. He froze as water bubbled through the splintered boat, soaking his boots and filling up the boat.

~~00~~

On the bank of the river, Daryl Peterson peered through the reeds, and steadied his rifle. "You won't get away with this," he muttered softly, while aiming at the hunter in distress.

"Got him!" The croc rolled on its back in a death roll aimed at the hunter. The boat tipped, sending the hunter backwards into the river where the certainty of death by drowning became real.

Daryl remained motionless as the elephant stepped closer to his foe. "Good, one thwack with that and revenge is complete."

The oar smashed into the crocodile just inches from its snout. Daryl watched in horror as the croc swung around, its jaw wide, allowing the bloody body of the man to drift free on the surface of the water.

"Hah, thought you'd get away from me, you scumbag? Didn't think I'd be able to find you in this kind of place, did you? I only hope the croc comes back for you so no one finds you and spots the bullet wounds." Daryl stood up, slinging his rifle onto his back again as he headed for the thick bush.

He soon reached the clearing where he had left his Landrover, but came to an abrupt halt when he realised it was no longer there. He scanned the area for clues--four different sets of footprints patterned the sand where his car had stood merely an hour ago.

Daryl caught a glimmer of movement in the bush ahead and crept forward; to discover he was crouched behind a small herd of elephant with their backs to him.

[IS THIS THE REST OF THE HERD THAT OUR ELLIE IN THE RIVER BELONGS TO? IN WHICH CASE IS HE ABOUT TO COME BACK TO JOIN THEM? OR DO YOU HAVE OTHER IDEAS? WHAT'S DARYL GOING TO DO NEXT? ADD ANOTHER SENTENCE TO OUR THRILLING DRAMA!]   Click on comments and read through the last comment then continue the story with a full sentence.

6 comments:

  1. The elephant lowered his head towards the glimmering water and took a firm grip of the oar floating past. He raised it high over the crocodile who was lurking menacingly in the reeds. A hunter watched the scene, his boat helpless in the thick vegetation where his rifle lay beyond reach. If that croc swam closer to him, he'd be trapped between the croc and elephant.

    Suddenly a sound of cracking wood filled the air. From right behind him. He froze as water bubbled through the splintered boat, soaking his boots and filling up the boat.

    ~~00~~

    On the bank of the river, Daryl Peterson peered through the reeds, and steadied his rifle. "You won't get away with this," he muttered softly, while aiming at the hunter in distress.

    "Got him!" The croc rolled on its back in a death roll aimed at the hunter. The boat tipped, sending the hunter backwards into the river where the certainty of death by drowning became real.

    Daryl remained motionless as the elephant stepped closer to his foe. "Good, one thwack with that and revenge is complete."

    The oar smashed into the crocodile just inches from its snout. Daryl watched in horror as the croc swung around, its jaw wide, allowing the bloody body of the man to drift free on the surface of the water.

    "Hah, thought you'd get away from me, you scumbag? Didn't think I'd be able to find you in this kind of place, did you? I only hope the croc comes back for you so no one finds you and spots the bullet wounds." Daryl stood up, slinging his rifle onto his back again as he headed for the thick bush.

    He soon reached the clearing where he had left his Landrover, but came to an abrupt halt when he realised it was no longer there. He scanned the area for clues--four different sets of footprints patterned the sand where his car had stood merely an hour ago.

    Daryl caught a glimmer of movement in the bush ahead and crept forward; to discover he was crouched behind a small herd of elephant with their backs to him. Behind him, a twig snapped, and he turned, coming face to face with a massive bull elephant.

    ReplyDelete
  2. The elephant lowered his head towards the glimmering water and took a firm grip of the oar floating past. He raised it high over the crocodile who was lurking menacingly in the reeds. A hunter watched the scene, his boat helpless in the thick vegetation where his rifle lay beyond reach. If that croc swam closer to him, he'd be trapped between the croc and elephant.

    Suddenly a sound of cracking wood filled the air. From right behind him. He froze as water bubbled through the splintered boat, soaking his boots and filling up the boat.

    ~~00~~

    On the bank of the river, Daryl Peterson peered through the reeds, and steadied his rifle. "You won't get away with this," he muttered softly, while aiming at the hunter in distress.

    "Got him!" The croc rolled on its back in a death roll aimed at the hunter. The boat tipped, sending the hunter backwards into the river where the certainty of death by drowning became real.

    Daryl remained motionless as the elephant stepped closer to his foe. "Good, one thwack with that and revenge is complete."

    The oar smashed into the crocodile just inches from its snout. Daryl watched in horror as the croc swung around, its jaw wide, allowing the bloody body of the man to drift free on the surface of the water.

    "Hah, thought you'd get away from me, you scumbag? Didn't think I'd be able to find you in this kind of place, did you? I only hope the croc comes back for you so no one finds you and spots the bullet wounds." Daryl stood up, slinging his rifle onto his back again as he headed for the thick bush.

    He soon reached the clearing where he had left his Landrover, but came to an abrupt halt when he realised it was no longer there. He scanned the area for clues--four different sets of footprints patterned the sand where his car had stood merely an hour ago.

    Daryl caught a glimmer of movement in the bush ahead and crept forward; to discover he was crouched behind a small herd of elephant with their backs to him. Behind him, a twig snapped, and he turned, coming face to face with a massive bull elephant.
    His heart sank as he realized there was no way he could out run this threat. But, then, he looked in wonder at the broken oar held by the elephant. This was the one that had thwacked the crocodile. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't such a threat.

    ReplyDelete
  3. The elephant lowered his head towards the glimmering water and took a firm grip of the oar floating past. He raised it high over the crocodile who was lurking menacingly in the reeds. A hunter watched the scene, his boat helpless in the thick vegetation where his rifle lay beyond reach. If that croc swam closer to him, he'd be trapped between the croc and elephant.

    Suddenly a sound of cracking wood filled the air. From right behind him. He froze as water bubbled through the splintered boat, soaking his boots and filling up the boat.

    ~~00~~

    On the bank of the river, Daryl Peterson peered through the reeds, and steadied his rifle. "You won't get away with this," he muttered softly, while aiming at the hunter in distress.

    "Got him!" The croc rolled on its back in a death roll aimed at the hunter. The boat tipped, sending the hunter backwards into the river where the certainty of death by drowning became real.

    Daryl remained motionless as the elephant stepped closer to his foe. "Good, one thwack with that and revenge is complete."

    The oar smashed into the crocodile just inches from its snout. Daryl watched in horror as the croc swung around, its jaw wide, allowing the bloody body of the man to drift free on the surface of the water.

    "Hah, thought you'd get away from me, you scumbag? Didn't think I'd be able to find you in this kind of place, did you? I only hope the croc comes back for you so no one finds you and spots the bullet wounds." Daryl stood up, slinging his rifle onto his back again as he headed for the thick bush.

    He soon reached the clearing where he had left his Landrover, but came to an abrupt halt when he realised it was no longer there. He scanned the area for clues--four different sets of footprints patterned the sand where his car had stood merely an hour ago.

    Daryl caught a glimmer of movement in the bush ahead and crept forward; to discover he was crouched behind a small herd of elephant with their backs to him. Behind him, a twig snapped, and he turned, coming face to face with a massive bull elephant.

    His heart sank as he realized there was no way he could out run this threat. But, then, he looked in wonder at the broken oar held by the elephant. This was the one that had thwacked the crocodile. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't such a threat. Daryl clutched his rifle to his chest, afraid that if he raised it to fire on the elephant the gigantic beast might reach him first, and attempted to sidle into the thick bush on his left.

    ReplyDelete
  4. The elephant lowered his head towards the glimmering water and took a firm grip of the oar floating past. He raised it high over the crocodile who was lurking menacingly in the reeds. A hunter watched the scene, his boat helpless in the thick vegetation where his rifle lay beyond reach. If that croc swam closer to him, he'd be trapped between the croc and elephant.

    Suddenly a sound of cracking wood filled the air. From right behind him. He froze as water bubbled through the splintered boat, soaking his boots and filling up the boat.

    ~~00~~

    On the bank of the river, Daryl Peterson peered through the reeds, and steadied his rifle. "You won't get away with this," he muttered softly, while aiming at the hunter in distress.

    "Got him!" The croc rolled on its back in a death roll aimed at the hunter. The boat tipped, sending the hunter backwards into the river where the certainty of death by drowning became real.

    Daryl remained motionless as the elephant stepped closer to his foe. "Good, one thwack with that and revenge is complete."

    The oar smashed into the crocodile just inches from its snout. Daryl watched in horror as the croc swung around, its jaw wide, allowing the bloody body of the man to drift free on the surface of the water.

    "Hah, thought you'd get away from me, you scumbag? Didn't think I'd be able to find you in this kind of place, did you? I only hope the croc comes back for you so no one finds you and spots the bullet wounds." Daryl stood up, slinging his rifle onto his back again as he headed for the thick bush.

    He soon reached the clearing where he had left his Landrover, but came to an abrupt halt when he realised it was no longer there. He scanned the area for clues--four different sets of footprints patterned the sand where his car had stood merely an hour ago.

    Daryl caught a glimmer of movement in the bush ahead and crept forward; to discover he was crouched behind a small herd of elephant with their backs to him. Behind him, a twig snapped, and he turned, coming face to face with a massive bull elephant.

    His heart sank as he realized there was no way he could out run this threat. But, then, he looked in wonder at the broken oar held by the elephant. This was the one that had thwacked the crocodile. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't such a threat. Daryl clutched his rifle to his chest, afraid that if he raised it to fire on the elephant the gigantic beast might reach him first, and attempted to sidle into the thick bush on his left.

    As he pushed through the thorns and dense vegetation, he kept a watchful eye on the elephant whose only movement was a slowly swinging trunk and an occasional twitch of his massive ears.

    ReplyDelete
  5. The elephant lowered his head towards the glimmering water and took a firm grip of the oar floating past. He raised it high over the crocodile who was lurking menacingly in the reeds. A hunter watched the scene, his boat helpless in the thick vegetation where his rifle lay beyond reach. If that croc swam closer to him, he'd be trapped between the croc and elephant.

    Suddenly a sound of cracking wood filled the air. From right behind him. He froze as water bubbled through the splintered boat, soaking his boots and filling up the boat.

    ~~00~~

    On the bank of the river, Daryl Peterson peered through the reeds, and steadied his rifle. "You won't get away with this," he muttered softly, while aiming at the hunter in distress.

    "Got him!" The croc rolled on its back in a death roll aimed at the hunter. The boat tipped, sending the hunter backwards into the river where the certainty of death by drowning became real.

    Daryl remained motionless as the elephant stepped closer to his foe. "Good, one thwack with that and revenge is complete."

    The oar smashed into the crocodile just inches from its snout. Daryl watched in horror as the croc swung around, its jaw wide, allowing the bloody body of the man to drift free on the surface of the water.

    "Hah, thought you'd get away from me, you scumbag? Didn't think I'd be able to find you in this kind of place, did you? I only hope the croc comes back for you so no one finds you and spots the bullet wounds." Daryl stood up, slinging his rifle onto his back again as he headed for the thick bush.

    He soon reached the clearing where he had left his Landrover, but came to an abrupt halt when he realised it was no longer there. He scanned the area for clues--four different sets of footprints patterned the sand where his car had stood merely an hour ago.

    Daryl caught a glimmer of movement in the bush ahead and crept forward; to discover he was crouched behind a small herd of elephant with their backs to him. Behind him, a twig snapped, and he turned, coming face to face with a massive bull elephant.

    His heart sank as he realized there was no way he could out run this threat. But, then, he looked in wonder at the broken oar held by the elephant. This was the one that had thwacked the crocodile. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't such a threat. Daryl clutched his rifle to his chest, afraid that if he raised it to fire on the elephant the gigantic beast might reach him first, and attempted to sidle into the thick bush on his left.

    As he pushed through the thorns and dense vegetation, he kept a watchful eye on the elephant whose only movement was a slowly swinging trunk and an occasional twitch of his massive ears.Then, without a sound, the elephant turned and walked slowly round where Daryl stood and joined the small herd. Daryl let out his breath and lowered his rifle, thankful that he did not have to face, and shoot, a charging elephant.

    ReplyDelete
  6. The elephant lowered his head towards the glimmering water and took a firm grip of the oar floating past. He raised it high over the crocodile who was lurking menacingly in the reeds. A hunter watched the scene, his boat helpless in the thick vegetation where his rifle lay beyond reach. If that croc swam closer to him, he'd be trapped between the croc and elephant.

    Suddenly a sound of cracking wood filled the air. From right behind him. He froze as water bubbled through the splintered boat, soaking his boots and filling up the boat.

    ~~00~~

    On the bank of the river, Daryl Peterson peered through the reeds, and steadied his rifle. "You won't get away with this," he muttered softly, while aiming at the hunter in distress.

    "Got him!" The croc rolled on its back in a death roll aimed at the hunter. The boat tipped, sending the hunter backwards into the river where the certainty of death by drowning became real.

    Daryl remained motionless as the elephant stepped closer to his foe. "Good, one thwack with that and revenge is complete."

    The oar smashed into the crocodile just inches from its snout. Daryl watched in horror as the croc swung around, its jaw wide, allowing the bloody body of the man to drift free on the surface of the water.

    "Hah, thought you'd get away from me, you scumbag? Didn't think I'd be able to find you in this kind of place, did you? I only hope the croc comes back for you so no one finds you and spots the bullet wounds." Daryl stood up, slinging his rifle onto his back again as he headed for the thick bush.

    He soon reached the clearing where he had left his Landrover, but came to an abrupt halt when he realised it was no longer there. He scanned the area for clues--four different sets of footprints patterned the sand where his car had stood merely an hour ago.

    Daryl caught a glimmer of movement in the bush ahead and crept forward; to discover he was crouched behind a small herd of elephant with their backs to him. Behind him, a twig snapped, and he turned, coming face to face with a massive bull elephant.

    His heart sank as he realized there was no way he could out run this threat. But, then, he looked in wonder at the broken oar held by the elephant. This was the one that had thwacked the crocodile. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't such a threat. Daryl clutched his rifle to his chest, afraid that if he raised it to fire on the elephant the gigantic beast might reach him first, and attempted to sidle into the thick bush on his left.

    As he pushed through the thorns and dense vegetation, he kept a watchful eye on the elephant whose only movement was a slowly swinging trunk and an occasional twitch of his massive ears.Then, without a sound, the elephant turned and walked slowly round where Daryl stood and joined the small herd. Daryl let out his breath and lowered his rifle, thankful that he did not have to face, and shoot, a charging elephant.

    Suddenly elephants started to clump together, their ears flapping and some raised their trunks; clearly they heard or sensed something Daryl did not.

    ReplyDelete