Continuing with picture prompts this week, and another short one.
Have a little fun with this contrasting image.
She had never wanted to go to Asia. She hated the food, the noise, the stinks, the crush, the sweating heat. She sat in the tiny taxi, jolted this way and that as the smiling, chatty driver – hands barely on the wheel – slithered their way through the throng of honking traffic. The diesel-laden air had given her a headache, nausea roiled in her stomach.
She lay back in the shiny vinyl seat, clung to an upright and squeezed her eyes tight shut.
The blaring Bangkok scene melted into silence, the smiling driver with it. She opened her eyes, daring to hope. And breathed her relief into the autumn-gold serenity of her Forest.
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Nice description.
My story
Sandy couldn’t believe his eyes. There in front of him was a Tuk-Tuk, glistening in the sunshine as it shone through the forest autumn leaves now beginning to carpet the path as winter approached.
What on earth was a Thai three-wheeled motorised rickshaw doing in the middle of the English countryside, he wondered. Totally out of place given its normal taxi role.
He hesitantly approached the vehicle. Perhaps it was a mirage.
Sandy peered through the door. No one was there so, overcome with curiosity, he climbed in and sat on the seat.
In a flash, he was back in Bangkok, wending his way through narrow streets filled with stalls and the hubbub of humanity, dodging pedestrians as he went.
“By God, you’re a crazy driver,” Sandy heard from behind him and, looking round, saw he had somehow picked up Pierce Brosnan, aka James Bond in a dinner suit, happily flashing his Visa card to all and sundry.
“How did you get here,” he asked incredulous.
“Don’t worry about me,” replied Brosnan, pearly whites gleaming. “Just keep going.”
They took the next corner on two wheels as black helmeted riders on motorbikes suddenly appeared behind them.
Gunshots rained around them and Sandy suddenly realised his life was in mortal danger.
“How do we get out of this,” he yelled over the whine of the two-stroke engine.
“Take the next left – it’ll lead us down to the waterfront,” Brosnan yelled back. “We should be able to lose them there.”
Low hanging washing obstructed his path but, scared out of his wits, he ploughed straight through it.
One of the pursuing motorcyclists wasn’t so lucky. Vision totally obscured, he ploughed into a building, the motorbike bursting into flames.
However, the others still kept coming.
Brosnan was right. The narrow street finished at the waterfront and it was a miracle they didn’t end up in the water as Sandy lent hard on the Tuk-Tuk’s handlebars to avoid disaster.
He watched as another of the motorbikes became spectacularly airborne and headed for a watery grave.
Just as they were both congratulating themselves on a lucky escape from a similar fate, a truck headed towards them at high speed.
“Lookout,” yelled Brosnan, as he leapt out of their vehicle with Sandy close behind him.
The metallic crunch could be heard hundreds of yards away and both men watched in dismay as the Tuk-Tuk was reduced to a pile of flattened rubble.
“My poor Tuk-Tuk,” cried Sandy. “What am I going to do?”
“It’s ok,” replied Brosnan with a smile. “My Visa will pay for a new one.”
Sandy looked relieved. He might just make it back to his English forest, after all.
Action man! LOL