Short Story Of Amazon's Machete

1023 Words3 Pages

The water had gotten into his shoes, soaking his feet in cool creek water. He reached for his machete to cut down the vines that had fallen from the forests tell trees. They were intertwined making the path through the jungle almost impossible. He had to move fast. His dirty hair onto his forehead as he stepped from rock to rock avoiding the water though he already drenched his boots. Form the books about the harp it was hidden deep in the Amazon. Native people were everywhere around every corner and every rustled branch. He would not give up because of these challenges. He slashed branch by branch while making making his way around the creek where the rapids had gotten too violent to walk. He put his machete away the familiar flick of his …show more content…

The water had gotten muggy, green and brown algae floated in the water turning it from the clear blue-green to a muddy brown. Little pebbles had wiggled their way into his boots making it almost unbearable to walk. He had begun to despair that after a month in the Amazon that he would never find the harp. He began to think of him coming home to his wife empty handed as her fate was locked in and she began to fade away. Her illness had become fatal. By now she may only have another week or two without the harp, and she will die. She will die without him as he searched for a legend, a myth about a stupid harp that might not even be real. Without realizing, he had begun to move faster, not careful of where he may be stepping. Those thoughts he realized were the only thing keeping him going. He had trudged far into the jungle now, the stream barely moving. Looking ahead at the creek he saw that it turned and he could see light. Quite contrasting from the darkness of the tree’s shade, that he was in now. He began to tread through the murky water as fast as his mud filled boots would let him. He turned the corner and the bright light of the blazing sun blinded him …show more content…

The warmth of the rays heating his face . He had closed his eyes reflexively letting the warmth revive him and wash away the sorrow and doubt he had felt before. He opened his eyes slowly and gently as to prolong that wonderful feeling as long as possible. Looking around, he saw the rocks were gleaming and smooth, the creek flowing with crystal clear water, and there it was. The harp. So it’s true he thought, it’s really true. It’s long base and delicate strings glimmered in the sunlight, and the rock it sat on was flat and smooth. A picture out of a fairytale. He moved toward, it treading in the shallow water carefully. He reached tout and touched the smooth golden surface of the harp, the tips of his fingers brushing the strings. A beautiful warm sound sound full of life rang through the jungle. Everything went hushed as though no living thing dared to disturb such a wonderful

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