Written for dVerse Prosery: A View from the Hills.
Our host, Sanaa, asks us to write a piece of prosery
of up to 144 words, including the line shown below.
This is where the prompt took me.
“The hills so dry, so dense the underbrush, that
where I pushed my way the giant hush was changed
to soft explosions.” From the poem “On a View of
Pasadena from the Hills” by Yvor Winters.
Man, we drove all night from Frisco, Dean and me and sweet Carlo humming in the back, windows down, desert air like a hot towel slapped across the face, and I kept thinking about those hills east of the city where the chaparral goes silver in the dying light and nobody walks because nobody has to walk, but I had to, I always had to, I tumbled out of the Ford and just went …. the hills, so dry, so dense the underbrush, that where I pushed my way, the giant hush was changed to soft explosions …. sage and dust and the crackle of a world that had been holding its breath for a thousand years just waiting for one more fool to come busting through.
NAR©2026
This is “Neal and Jack and Me” by King Crimson
Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.
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