Morning Services
March 8, 2002
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Homework
Alya stood very still as the other women gathered in the clearing. Her face was calmly set, her eyes serene to behold. The pre-dawn light glinted off the silver chains threaded through the numerous tiny braids in her pale hair. To look upon her was to observe the calmness of the forest embodied in a woman.
The other women gathered around her like a flock of children would gather around an elderly woman as she spins tales of wonder. A muscle in Alya's jaw twitched. The others laid down their offerings to the sun. Some had brought flowers and scented oils, some had brought bits of food. One had brought a live dove. Alya's eyes flicked to the dove and then quickly away. Everyone knew what the dove was for. Her shoulders shuddered as she breathed a sigh. The other women arranged themselves into a circle around Alya, each holding the hands of the women on either side of her.
Alya stretched her hands toward the sun that was just then cresting the hill. She sang to the sun, and thanked it for giving them warmth and food. The others sang as well, their voices combining together in harmony. As the last bit of sun emerged, they all sang their final notes. Alya then looked down at the waiting women. Again she looked at the dove. Her hands began to tremble, and she clasped them together.
"Who would wish love so much?" she asked the assembled women.
"I do," replied a young handsome girl.
Alya held out her hands, palms up, waiting. The girl-child picked up the bird and placed it in Alya's hand, along with a long thin needle.
Alya began drawing on the energy of the women around her, and also began to recite the ancient incantation. Her shoulders gave one more massive shudder before she readied herself to plunge the needle into the heart of the softly cooing bird...
NOTE: This was an assignment for my CCV (Community College of Vermont) Creative Writing I online class with William Noble.
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