Jungle Wood
4/23/1872
The thick jungle air surrounded the man as he stepped out onto his porch. The mosquitoes engulfed him, but he gently and lightly swatted them off. The swamp trees were everywhere, you could hear the monkeys playing and birds chirping in the deep Jungle. A Parrot by the names of Peter sat near the man as he stared out into the swamp, the floor boards creaking under him as he moved forward. The embers from his cigar fell off onto the old porch as the smoke lifted into the air. The boat rested in the shallow water which was hitting against the dock he had crafted himself, he could see fish occasionally making their way to the surface then disappearing again in the murky water. An old whisper shifted through the air, making it's way to the man who began to have goose bumps as he heard the whisper, yet he was not scared. Lanterns made of large sticks of wood and fire had been etched across the river shores, to light the way for the man if he were to leave for town. The boards creaked again as he slowly turned, giving off his last puff of smoke before tossing the cigar into the water and walking back into the hut.
4/23/1872
The thick jungle air surrounded the man as he stepped out onto his porch. The mosquitoes engulfed him, but he gently and lightly swatted them off. The swamp trees were everywhere, you could hear the monkeys playing and birds chirping in the deep Jungle. A Parrot by the names of Peter sat near the man as he stared out into the swamp, the floor boards creaking under him as he moved forward. The embers from his cigar fell off onto the old porch as the smoke lifted into the air. The boat rested in the shallow water which was hitting against the dock he had crafted himself, he could see fish occasionally making their way to the surface then disappearing again in the murky water. An old whisper shifted through the air, making it's way to the man who began to have goose bumps as he heard the whisper, yet he was not scared. Lanterns made of large sticks of wood and fire had been etched across the river shores, to light the way for the man if he were to leave for town. The boards creaked again as he slowly turned, giving off his last puff of smoke before tossing the cigar into the water and walking back into the hut.
