- Joined
- Sep 11, 2023
- Messages
- 184
- Reaction score
- 397
- Awards
- 6
1. Inception
Nearly midnight. I shuffled barefoot over the cobblestones towards the edge of the backyard. At the wall, I knelt and dug out some soil with a cupped hand. The soil was dry and laced with roots as thin as hair. When the glass jar was full to the brim, I turned south and held up my offering to heaven. Instantly, the full moon slid over the oval opening of the jar. A solid, terrifying coincidence. The glass flared with a dull glow, cradling an egg of darkness inside… I whispered a triple prayer to the Triple Goddess, Nurse of the World.
I carried the jar inside and placed it on my altar. With a blunt sea urchin stick, I started to crush an eggshell into the soil. Both the hollow egg and the stick were gifts I had received one week earlier from a dear friend; witch, childless, restless soul… It had not been my wish to destroy her beautiful hand-painted egg, but it had broken earlier that evening, and rather than leaving it half-destroyed, it now served a better purpose: fully obliterated, merged into this midnight soil. The sea urchin stick had three rims and carried a pareidolic trace of faces.
I sealed the jar and blew out the candle.
Nearly midnight. I shuffled barefoot over the cobblestones towards the edge of the backyard. At the wall, I knelt and dug out some soil with a cupped hand. The soil was dry and laced with roots as thin as hair. When the glass jar was full to the brim, I turned south and held up my offering to heaven. Instantly, the full moon slid over the oval opening of the jar. A solid, terrifying coincidence. The glass flared with a dull glow, cradling an egg of darkness inside… I whispered a triple prayer to the Triple Goddess, Nurse of the World.
I carried the jar inside and placed it on my altar. With a blunt sea urchin stick, I started to crush an eggshell into the soil. Both the hollow egg and the stick were gifts I had received one week earlier from a dear friend; witch, childless, restless soul… It had not been my wish to destroy her beautiful hand-painted egg, but it had broken earlier that evening, and rather than leaving it half-destroyed, it now served a better purpose: fully obliterated, merged into this midnight soil. The sea urchin stick had three rims and carried a pareidolic trace of faces.
I sealed the jar and blew out the candle.