Graham - Plantation Story

Here are the four pieces I came away with:

Character
He always wanted to be a writer. His English teacher told him to forget it In his old age he picked up a pen and started.

Setting
Nuclear red sunsets dispersing the dust on the tea plantation road.

Object
Shiny, pointed, sharp, percussion implement. covered in green algae on one end.

Event
Went off to tour the beauty spots of the city.

I wrote something when I got home, riffing off the first two and intending to work the second two in. It's over 600 words at the moment and I'll get it closer to 500 before I post it. It's taken on a life of it's own so I won't sacrifice that by shoe-horning all the given words in. I've just used them to inspire me.

I probably won't present this in class as Dave and I are working on a collaboration, so any comments are welcome. Though they are not word for word I'm sure you can spot where I used the prompts.

Plantation Story

Words 504

I am old now, my memories as dim as my eyes, perhaps too old to tell the story. But if I don’t, who will, certainly not Dijkstra. The sun was baking the tea plantation road into dust when he knocked on my door and said he had a problem.

Dijkstra was the problem. My wife, Lois, liked him well enough but she had terrible taste in men. My trigger finger still itches when I think about him, an itch I can never scratch.

    ‘That’s not what I pay you for,’ I said.

   ‘You need to see this and it’s better no one else hears.’

We took the jeep and once out of range of the house he told me.

   ‘There’s a body, out by Grieg Point.’ It was the remotest part of the property and I began to understand his caution.

   ‘Tiger?’

   ‘Looks like it.’

   ‘Damn.’

We were behind as it was and most of the boys would pack up and leave if they heard.

We left the jeep at the Point and he had me go ahead. I looked round as I heard him take his machete out. He nodded. I had no reason to fear for my life at that point, but I patted the Webley anyway.

It was a local but his face was so torn away as to be unidentifiable.

   ‘Any one missing?’

   ‘We won’t know for sure till roll call.’

   ‘Ok, get Tommy and Nieu Ven. They’ll keep their mouths shut, and put him in the old drying room till we find out. I’ll call Nils and see if there are any more reports.’

As we left the clearing something sparkled in the undergrowth. It was the bracelet I’d given my wife on our tenth anniversary. As I looked at it, I heard Dijkstra’s voice.

   ‘You shouldn’t really have found that.’

I had the Webley out of its holster but not in time to fire. As he lunged at me I lifted my arm to ward off the blade. That’s when I lost the finger, but it didn’t register. I fell backwards, and he lifted the machete again. This time I raised the gun and pulled the trigger only nothing happened. Stupidly I looked at where my bloody stump pulled on thin air. Dijkstra paused and sneered. As he brought the weapon down there was a crash in the foliage and a blood-chilling roar. The tiger’s enormous tawny bulk flashed through the air and snapped his neck. It’s momentum bowled him over and they rolled together as it shook the life out of him.

I had the gun in both hands now and managed to get my second finger to the trigger. It went off before I could aim and the beast shot off into the jungle.

Before I went back to the jeep I took another look at the native’s body. Lifting the chin I saw the clean slice Dijkstra’s machete had made through the bone.

I was due a week in the city. I didn’t take Lois.