As I continue my six week writing course, I am sharing my second submission with you. This week is the sense of SOUND.
Lion
Sally woke to the rumbling, chuffing and clatter of numerous vehicles on the street. She heard the clash of chains, gears grinding and raised voices. It was an odd assortment of noises in this usually quiet part of town. Loathing the idea of leaving her cozy soft blankets this early on a Sunday, Sally turned over hoping the intrusive clamour would soon disappear. ROAR! If she wasn’t mistaken that sounded a lot like a lion’s roar. She’d watched numerous nature programs to know that sound. I must have drifted off. I was dreaming. ROAR. There it was again, and she certainly was not sleeping. Flinging her bedclothes off her body, inhaling at the sudden chill her body experienced, Sally drew aside the curtains. The metal hoops rasped on the metal curtain rod as she did so. The street was full of vehicles, some in gaudy colours, others rusty and billowing and coughing dirty black diesel fumes. The annual fair convoy – how could she have forgotten the date? There were numerous bulky men, all in what Sally’s father used to call belt and braces attire, gesticulating and shouting at each other. Their voices ranged in tone from tenor to baritone to bass and the occasional soprano. Sally watched their movements in awe and intrigue. Their heavy boots thudded on the road, as they raced back and forth collecting a variety of objects. Some gathered sticks, some shovels and one lugged a huge net over his shoulder.
As Sally continued to view the scene below her bedroom window, she looked at each vehicle in more detail. She wondered why the men had chosen those particular objects. She surmised that if one of the trucks had broken down, they would need proper tools, not what could only be described as weapons. Then she saw it, the center of the commotion and the possible reason for said weapons, a partially covered cage – an immense cage at that – near the beginning of the convoy. The rear door was ajar. Realization crept into Sally’s mind. Whatever had been in the cage wasn’t anymore. What could be prowling the gardens – my garden?
A whimpering sound uttered from Sally’s throat. Her thoughts tumbled over each other. Were the front and back doors locked? Were any windows open? Could a large animal break through the glass patio doors? These thoughts startled her into action. Pulling clothes from the back of the bedroom chair, she rushed to the bathroom. She fumbled with the bar of pink soap as she washed her hands; it slipped from her fingers first thudding on the ceramic basin and then thumping onto the tiled floor. In her haste, sally left it on the floor leaving a trail of residue. After hurriedly dressing, she stomped down the stairs in a vain attempt to scare any creature that might have entered her home. Midway down, she stopped and listened. She strained so much to hear any movement, her ears began to ring and buzz. Whatever the animal is it isn’t in here, thank God.
Sally walked to the kitchen, peering left and right into the lounge and dining room, as she made her way along the hallway. Her missed matched socks made a swooshing sound on the carpet. Exhaled breaths uttered from her mouth, as she entered an empty kitchen. A low squelch issued from her sweating hands, as she gripped the sink and stood on tiptoe to survey the back garden. Her scream filled the room, stunned her ears and mind. There large as life stood a lion in her fishpond. Lapping up water and shaking its massive mane. Another sound filled the kitchen as Sally fainted – wallop as she hit the linoleum.
I hope you like the story.
What are you currently reading? Have you left a review?
Mandy Eve-Barnett's Blog for Readers & Writers 