Sheer Phawn Jungle Hostage
Sheer Phawn was not like other jungle creatures. She did not blend into the landscape.
She was not fearful of the unseen dangers, or the dark shadows, or the lack of sun.
The secretive cloak of the jungle and the diabolicalness of its floor did not alarm her.
There was no hiding for her, no secrecy. No reverence at all for her mysterious surroundings.
The plane had crashed two days ago, and Sheer Phawn was existing on adrenaline and anger.
She was furious; at the pilot, the crew, and all of the passengers which had died, and left here.
She was tromping through these unknown grasses, in a furious way, glad that she had an axe.
It was one of the few things she decided to grab as she left the plane. There were only two survivors.
Jim something was the other one.
She was mad enough to stomp and tromp, but these vine-encrusted tree trunks and grasses
Slowed her progress, increasing her furiousness to almost a frenzy point. Was no one looking for them?
She cut a little niche out of some grasses with the tiny axe, and screamed a war cry as a snake slithered
Under the spongy jungle floor at her feet. She did not see his head, but if she had, she would have
No doubt cut it off, she was so mad.
This jungle from hell which had been so foreboding and intimidating two days ago was irritating now.
“AH! LEE-OH! YAH! HEY!” she screamed, pretending she was tough, while she was really just sad.
There was no echo, as there never is in the jungle. Jim, the only other survivor of the crash, suggested she sit.
Sheer Phawn laughed, maybe a bit too loudly, and she caught herself.
Jim had been looking a bit suspicious of her lately, she did not want to give him fodder, so she sat.
She did not want to give her plan away, but she was never letting her axe out of her sight.
She kind of thought of Jim as a possible future lunch, and it was not good to let this out.
Cannibalism is a lot more difficult if you make lunch into a friend, right?
She sat down while boring Jim told her things she did not want to hear. He droned on.
She pretended to listen, too angry to hear the words. Neither heard the tigers until it was too late.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment