Of Life and Death...

As a child, I had heard much about her Legend. I had gobbled up the old stories, wide-eyed, sat on the grass beneath the old oak trees. I had listened, and listened, and listened.. Until she was no longer just a name in a fable, not just a Legend who once lived. I had listened till she had become real to me..

And today I was to finally "meet" her... whatever that really meant...

My name is Annabelle, and this is the story of how I died...


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Image by Jo-B from Pixabay


When I first walked into Kutulo's Temple, I had nothing more than a simple curiosity in mind. A curiosity which I had put out for way too long, and which had, as all curiosities do, eventually found its way to the fore.

As it were, I was a healthy young urn, I had lived, I had loved, and I had so far led a fairly normal life. But as my middle ages fast approached, the knowledge that I had not as yet been able to bring to bear a younger version of myself began to worry me. I wanted a child, I probably even needed one, for I had a marriage that hung on its very edges. A child would be the fixer we needed.. I believed..

And soon enough, my thoughts, as all the thoughts of those who were plagued by a similar situation to mine, drifted towards the Temple.. Kutulo's Temple.. and the mysteries that lay within..

Kutulo was her name. That old lady who knew the answers to the questions you never asked, and answered them before you even knew you were going to ask.. Kutulo, the wise one...

As a child, I had heard much about her Legend. I had gobbled up the old stories, wide-eyed, sat on the grass beneath the old oak trees.

I had listened, and listened, and listened.. Until she was no longer just a name in a fable, not just a Legend who had once lived. I had listened till she had become real to me. Real enough to appear in my dreams, to be the explanation to those voices I could not remember but know I heard, to those terrible events I somehow avoided, and to those instances of luck that came my way..

And today I was to finally "meet" her... whatever that really meant. Not that I cared, I just needed to know, to clear my curiosity, as to why I couldn't birth a child.

So I walked into Kutulo's hallowed temple, bare footed as required, my arms bearing a bowl of varied fruits, a piece of palm frond stuck between my lips. I swayed my hips to the rhythm of the flute that sang in the background, courtesy of the little ones who served the temple, and I prayed quietly that my needs be met..

In front of me stood an altar, the resting destination of the bowl in my hands. And as I approached, I closed my eyes.. I wish I hadn't...

For clear as the sound of the bellowing flutes, I saw her.. And sharp as the lightning when it strikes the earth, I heard her..

"For another to live, the one first must die"

My name is Annabelle, and this is the story of how I died...

THE END


#SladenSpeaks
#IfWordsWereNudes

It has been a long long time since I have written anything new. Adult life does come with her disadvantages I guess. Today I decided to give it a shot again. I hope you all had fun with this one.

Cheers.


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