Wednesday's Words on a Friday

 

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.

This month the words/prompts are supplied by Alex J. Cavanaugh and can be found here

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. staple 2. symbolic 3. relic 4. ebony 5. flames 

and/or: 

1. moon 2. general 3. drums 4. presto 5. thrilled

Charlotte's colour of the month is pearl opal green which I have not managed to use this week.

Here is my story:

Ava was thrilled to be allowed to watch the symbolic tribal harvest ritual. Last year she had been too young and had lain awake in her hut hearing the drums and general merriment, but now she was seven years and could be admitted to the early parts with the other children, some as old as ten and eleven.

When the full moon was high in the sky, the drums began, slowly and rhythmically, in the beat that had been a staple amongst her tribe for many generations. The fire burned low, yet bright enough to highlight the relic that was all that was left of the original totem.

The chief used a handmade flute to announce the parade, and soon after a procession began winding through the huts, the eldest member of each family, around the children’s circle, around the fireplace and towards the relic, each one carrying a carved wooden bowl filled with an offering. As each bowl was placed, the owner retreated to his or her family in the adults circle.

Now the feasting could begin. As if by magic, large platters of cooked meats and vegetables appeared, carried around to each family in turn, by the oldest teenagers, who would join the adults next year. Once all the adults had filled bowls, platters were carried to the children, who had no bowls, but shared directly from the platters.

Later, with filled bellies and heightened drumbeats, the story-telling began, ancient legends from the elders and newer stories, told by those who had ventured away from the tribe, only returning for the harvest moon. Strange powders were thrown into the fire, causing the flames to rise high and flicker on the glistening, oiled ebony skin and hair of the teenagers who now began the traditional dancing.

Families around the circle began to sing, soft and crooning songs that made the small children sleepy and as they fell asleep, their mothers carried them into the huts, before returning to the circle. A fermented brew was passed around and the merriment grew louder, but the brew was limited and drunken bad behaviour was no longer tolerated.

In general, the Harvest Ritual was only kept up by a very few tribes now, time had moved on and soon enough this tribe would too. The older teenagers were working on farms now, away from their people, earning money and learning new ways. Ava dreamed as she slept again, of the singing and dancing, but also of the things some of the older ones had told her. There was something called school, where only children went…