Published in Hobo No 4 1974
THE BACKWATER by Al Yedd 1973
It had been shortly after mid-day when the two men had steered their cabin cruiser into the backwater.
Two snow white swans glided passed, turned and sat motionless on the water studying the cruiser.
“ Must be nice to be a swan” David said. Marc was gazing at the sky.
“Yes” he agreed absently “But don’t worry about that now it looks as though we’re in for a storm”
Dark storm clouds, which had blown up while they had been talking, finally blotted out the sun.
David was not listening: “Only two swans on this section of the river as far as I know…..”
A titanic peel of thunder cut him short: the reeds which looked emerald green under the dark sky, shivered with the noise, a jagged white sear ripped the sky apart, almost immediately followed by another clash of the aerial cannons. David glanced up and spoke quietly; “Dry lightening illuminated the cabin cruiser. Presently the storm, with its echoes of violence and destruction of ages past and to come, ceased. Peace returned to the backwater.
Four swans glided downstream past the now empty cabin cruiser.

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