The Word Cloud

I am a hunter. I carry an enormous bore elephant-gun. I am a caricature of every big-game hunter you ever saw. I'm like Teddy Roosevelt standing on a dead tiger grinning in a sepia photograph. I'm like that guy in Jumanji or a bearded Hemmingway.

Pith helmet on, twirl of moustache, cue Elmer Fudd-like stalking.

I'm going into the manuscript jungle. I'm going to push the Elmer Fudd metaphor one more time: 'Sshhh! I'm a-hunting wordits.'

I need all my senses. First the loudest ones; they should be the easiest to find. Out there amongst the thousands of trees there are the smiling, grinning fools, gurning away, shrugging their shoulders and raising eyebrows. You can hear them by their protracted sighs and laughs and their constant wandering eyes looking at people sternly - Blam! - (got one of those Lees right between the eyes) or worse and horribly - Blam! - 'rolling' their eyes all over the place like ghouls. I recall Ian Fleming always rolling Bond's eyes across the room. Monster. I shudder and move on.

Next, the time-wasters. You can catch them easily as they're so slow but they're noisy too. They click doors shut, walk across rooms, brush their teeth, open then close car doors Sometimes you can catch them as they look in the mirror and describe themselves – Blam! - got one as he was making coffee and looking for the sugar - Blam! - another one; tying his shoes.

Now the Tells. Deep in the jungle now but again these guys shout at you but they learn fast. One moment they'll express how they love someone very much or say how sad they are then run away feeling that is enough. But once they learn to keep quiet...suddenly - Blam! - (damn Lees again. And that guy's the worst of them. Where does he come from? He's awful yet there are hundreds of the buggers.) those Tells are adapting everywhere. Now they're showing me things instead. Worn out portraits in wallets, shirts that don't fit or have frayed cuffs, broken toys or unworn children's shoes. I can't touch them now; they're protected.

My God! A herd of Lees! They're everywhere! See how quickly they run! Then they crawl slowly to confuse you or scream loudly. Better reload! No! I'm all out of exclaims. I've been firing them all over the place. Now they're too weak to have any effect. I roll my eyes up into the face of a widely grinning Lee. I'm done for. He stabs me brutally, painfully. He watches me die sadly. Thinks inwardly on what he's done. Damn! Forgot to bring my POV grenades as well. Oh, no: I'm having a flashback! I'm not even in this one!