Full Moon Ritual | The Ink Well Prompt

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I was alone on the dark mountain. At every step the vegetation scratched my clothes, I tried to pull my backpack, but my legs kept moving forward. At midnight, the clouds covered the star that I wished to behold me.

It was now routine to attend every full moon. It was an appointment with myself.

The stone castle had been erected since the times of ice. In my walk, I entered the ruins of the rocks. It looked very much like prehistoric times. I had passed the threshold to the camping area many times, but it still gave me that air of the mystical. Who knows, tonight something magical might happen!

The area was lonely for the dates. I didn't even see a tent, so I walked several segments to make sure. While the clouds continued to hold back the moon, I hurried my steps for the ritual I was going to practice.

I got rid of the luggage, concreted, and set up my tent with dedication. I was alone, but I felt more in tune with my surroundings. Likewise, I could hear the leaves vibrating to the drumming of the wind, the flapping of bats' wings, or the buzzing of insects.

My co-workers often insisted that I should not go camping alone, that it was dangerous, that I could be raped, that because I was a woman I should not do it. However, I still went on a full moon. It was my ritual. I wanted that intimacy with nature, maybe that's why I didn't invite anyone, not even the guys I went out with. They would not understand my ritual.

When I finished with the tent, I set out to have a light dinner. I was sitting in the cool grass watching the cloudy sky. It was cold, but that was part of the ritual, the only thing missing was the moon. I was patient and at around three o'clock in the morning, the moon peeked above the clouds. It was beautifully pale with its polka dots.

I took out the carafe of water and began to undress.

I felt no cold, just the caress of the wind against my bare skin. When I had no clothes on, I grabbed the carafe and took the bath of life, the lunar bath I called it internally. While the water-cooled by the weather fell through my hair, down to my breasts, and ended on my thighs. I felt my being vibrate again. The restarting and shedding of my bad streaks was going away, so I felt it as the water drained away. I raised my arms in delight at the full moon. She cleansed my evil and bad luck, she was the witness of my sins, she was my best friend that every full moon contemplated my attributes with silence.

I sat on the grass, waiting to feel dry. Enjoying the coldness of the environment, admiring the moon. She protected me against all evil.

After the bath, I felt light to face another week, another month, another routine. Until another full moon came. The ritual would go on, maybe until I got married, or maybe until I was old. I didn't care, the moon wasn't calling me, I was drawn to it and I didn't think I would let it go so easily.

Finally, when I felt dry I dressed and with a bow to the moon, I went to sleep.


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