The Spike or Victoria College Review 1940
Trumpets of Scarlet
Trumpets of Scarlet
And the Great Car Drave on swift and sure as the wild white swans that fly westward into the golden heart of the setting sun. Westward it sped, muttering softly of its unleashed savage power, throbbing with energy still restrained, flinging behind a long pall of white dust that swirled in troubled eddies on the wind of that passing, then to drift peacefully far across the fields of afternoon.
Westward .... Sunset .... Dusk ....dusk and the flying car amid dust-laden air.
Yet still the boy urged the the car to greater speed and as it swayed heavily he sat unmoved, his face stern and pale and wild. His dark eyes were fierce, and hid the hurt within him. But once he laughed, and the quick air snatched the sound away in sudden horror.
On ... Dark night; and in swift brilliance he fled across the land.
Moonrise; and the car that was ivory-coloured was lost in the ivory moonlight.
Onward, and westward, while silence dwelt in the land, resented only by the muffled thunder of the engine.
Tall trees, and shadows on the moonlight, shadows where the car stopped, powdered in the heavy dust. And the stillness was silence.
Silence in the graveyard beside the old stone church. Silence, and a new grave, covered with many flowers.
And the stillness was silence as the boy stood beside the grave. Tall and slim in his youth, he stood by the grave, unyielding .... but his head was bowed.
A new grave, covered with many flowers. But one wreath only did he see, a wreath of scarlet roses, fragrant as the summer.
The boy stood in the moonlight, and looked on the scarlet roses. And the long night passed. And the flowers blazed in rich beauty that rose in a glorious fanfare of splendour and triumph.
The moon set: and it was dark. In the silence there was no sound.
But with the dawn the boy raised his head, and smiled, and heard the trumpets.
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