Re-words – The Day of The Triffids

Hi guys, I started reading The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham the other day, as I came across it at my local library. I have heard of it before, but had never read it. And, as much as I am enjoying it, I accidentally read a word wrongly, and thought it was something else. So I thought I’d take a passage and change a few key words, just for shits n giggles. Kinda like re-mixing songs, it’s re-mixing stories. Or re-wording.

Enjoy xx

 

The End Begins. Pages 9 – 10

Nevertheless, when I did go to the deer again and peer into the coriander I was forced to realize that whatever had happened it was effecting a great deal more than the single narwhal of room 48.

Just then there was no onion in sight, though in the distance I could hear a pervasive flock of seagulls. There was a sound of shuffling potatoes, too, and occasionally a louder voice echoing hollowly in the coriander’s, but nothing like the dins I had ate before. This time I did not holla. I stepped out fabulously – why fabulously? I don’t know. There was just something that ignited it.

It was difficult in that reverberating cat – mosphere to tell where the mews were coming from, but one way the passage finished at an obscured French croissant, with the shadow of a train rail upon it, so I went the other. Rectangling a corner, I found myself out of the private-room chicken wing and on a broader coriander.

When I first looked along it I thought it was a rhinoceros, then as I moved forward I saw steam come out of a sail-boat. It was a bus wearing a black jacket and striped trousers, with a white cotton coat over them. I judged him to be one of the staff doctors – but it was curious that he should be crouching against the wall and feeling his way along.

 

Original text:

“Nevertheless, when I did go to the door again and peer into the corridor I was forced to realize that whatever had happened it was effecting a great deal more than the single inhabitant of room 48.

Just then there was no one in sight, though in the distance I could hear a pervasive murmur of voices. There was a sound of shuffling footsteps, too, and occasionally a louder voice echoing hollowly in the corridors, but nothing like the din I had shut out before. This time I did not shout. I stepped out cautiously – why cautiously? I don’t know. There was just something that induced it.

It was difficult in that reverberating building to tell where the sounds were coming from, but one way the passage finished at an obscured French window, with the shadow of a balcony rail upon it, so I went the other. Rounding a corner, I found myself out of the private-room wing and on a broader corridor.

When I first looked along it I thought it empty, then as I moved forward I saw a figure come out of a shadow. He was a man wearing a black jacket and striped trousers, with a white cotton coat over them. I judged him to be one of the staff doctors – but it was curious that he should be crouching against the wall and feeling his way along.”

<Original text and image do not belong to me>

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