Rangoon, Burma
3-19-06
Our town’s finest British cars were only used for the most important men. My brother and I heard about the procession from Sam, the next door neighbor. Whenever “they” came through, my brother and I would go out onto the street with the other kids and watch them drive by. The VIPs sat behind tinted windows and I doubt they even cared about the devastated landscape rolling by just outside their window. The only thing we would ever see of the passengers would be a puff of smoke coming from a slightly opened window.
As the cars approached, the crunching of the gravel grew louder; and softer as the first three drove right on by. In their dust cloud, however, we could distinctly see the fourth car slowing down. It went slower and slower until it actually stopped right in front of us. We all stared silently in shock. This had never happened before.
Then to our even greater surprise, the back door actually opened! And a tall, balding, white man walked out towards us. He smiled a friendly smile, and held his hands open in a gesture of peace. He walked right up to my brother and I (we were standing at the very front of the group) and held out his hand for us to shake. We both shook his hand, trembling. He had a firm shake, but not intimidating. Then satisfied, he pointed to himself and said, “Steve.” We nodded silently to show that we understood. Then, he picked up the camera that was hanging around his neck, “May I?” he asked us in our tongue. And again we nodded silently. Nodding back, he snapped a few shots of us and the rest of our group. Then he turned around and walked back to his car, looking at us once and winking. My brother and I followed him to his car and looked inside briefly before the man drove away.
You need the picture. This assignment was to write a story based on a picture. It fits, trust me. Maybe I'll get around to putting the picture on here later. It's a Steve McCurry Portrait. And I actually went online to research his (McCurry's) appearance to include him in this story. Unfortunately, this assignment had a limit of one page, so I couldn't do exaclty what it was I wanted to do, and Mr. Grady didn't like my opening sentence, so I had to change that.
Our town’s finest British cars were only used for the most important men. My brother and I heard about the procession from Sam, the next door neighbor. Whenever “they” came through, my brother and I would go out onto the street with the other kids and watch them drive by. The VIPs sat behind tinted windows and I doubt they even cared about the devastated landscape rolling by just outside their window. The only thing we would ever see of the passengers would be a puff of smoke coming from a slightly opened window.
As the cars approached, the crunching of the gravel grew louder; and softer as the first three drove right on by. In their dust cloud, however, we could distinctly see the fourth car slowing down. It went slower and slower until it actually stopped right in front of us. We all stared silently in shock. This had never happened before.
Then to our even greater surprise, the back door actually opened! And a tall, balding, white man walked out towards us. He smiled a friendly smile, and held his hands open in a gesture of peace. He walked right up to my brother and I (we were standing at the very front of the group) and held out his hand for us to shake. We both shook his hand, trembling. He had a firm shake, but not intimidating. Then satisfied, he pointed to himself and said, “Steve.” We nodded silently to show that we understood. Then, he picked up the camera that was hanging around his neck, “May I?” he asked us in our tongue. And again we nodded silently. Nodding back, he snapped a few shots of us and the rest of our group. Then he turned around and walked back to his car, looking at us once and winking. My brother and I followed him to his car and looked inside briefly before the man drove away.
You need the picture. This assignment was to write a story based on a picture. It fits, trust me. Maybe I'll get around to putting the picture on here later. It's a Steve McCurry Portrait. And I actually went online to research his (McCurry's) appearance to include him in this story. Unfortunately, this assignment had a limit of one page, so I couldn't do exaclty what it was I wanted to do, and Mr. Grady didn't like my opening sentence, so I had to change that.
posted by Andy | 6:09 PM
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