Sep 8, 2016 Original Flash Fiction, Original Short Story, Uncategorized
Dark-Side Priest
©September 8th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
It was the night of the lunar eclipse, and the earth had come to a stillness that boded no good. All living things had gone into their dens, or lairs, and nothing was abroad. The ocean struggled in vain with the wind, and all humans were within their little caves, sensing Change, but not knowing what it was.
As the eclipse began, a collective cry arose from the cave-dwellers, a cry of alarm and despair. What would they do without the moon?
Then, one man stood up, tall and heavy-browed, his club over his shoulder, and his animal skins hanging down his emaciated shoulder. He strode to the mouth of the large cave, where several of his family and tribe members sat huddled. As they watched him, a muttering arose.
He saw the shadow get larger, and guessed that it would cover the whole moon. Still, he reasoned, if it were a moving shadow, then it would move on, away from the moon. Of course, he had no real words for this, but his logic led him there.
And with that, came an idea.
He needed an animal.
He found one with his unerring spear. He dragged its thrashing body back to the cave. The muttering of his tribe became louder, but also appreciative.
He motioned them to stand back.
He needed a fire.
They had a small one going inside the cave. He strode in with an broken branch, strode out with a glowing stick, and fanned it into flame.
The others watched, pushing and shoving, wondering what he was going to do.
He stood over the fire, placed the carcass of the dead animal, turned it this way and that, and muttered unheard syllables, gazing up at the now-blacked out full moon in the sky.
Then, he paced around the fire, waving his arms one way, then repeating the motion the other way. His face took on an eerie glow, and his voice was harsh.
A delicious smell arose. The animal was cooking well. It smelled tantalizing. His family and others of his tribe felt their mouths watering. Some tried to approach him, but he waved them back with warning shrieks.
After taking some blackened bits of wood and making marks on his face, he began dancing around the fire.
His tribe watched, mouths agape. They were now both befuddled and afraid.
The man looked up, and saw that the shadow on the moon’s surface had been shifting steadily, and that some of the her silver glow was returning. His tribe members noticed this, as well, and their fear and bewilderment turned to awe.
The man stamped out the fire, and picked up the charred animal, and waved it at his people. They roared in approbation.
Then, he put it down, knelt, as if offering it to the moon. A gasp of admiration swept through his people. After this, he tore apart some of the deer’s flesh, and ceremoniously ate his first cooked venison.
Thus, the first Priest of the Tribe was born.
And he always got the best meat.
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Tags: #DailyPrompt, #Eclipse, #OriginalShortStory, #Postaday, #PrehistoricTale, #TheDailyPost