Hawked Rituals

2015-10-26-c2a9-2015-barbara-w-beacham

My Hawked Rituals

I watched the vulture looking at me hungrily as I lay on the ground bleeding and injured. Was it for this day I had come here against my parents’ wishes; hiking all the way to lofty mountains?  A slight twist of feet and down I came rolling to land on this isolated rock. Now what?  I feel dizzy. Any moment she would pounce on me to shred me into bits. 

Last minutes of life. Everyone has them. But could I have imagined this kind of end? No one will ever find my body. No last rites. No religious ceremony.

Ohhh!  And it was only last week I had argued with my college-mates, that my religion is the best; even the way it disposes off its dead. Could never help mocking at other faiths. And now? Destined to be a carcass for this scavenger.

Eyes full of tears, I start to pray, “God, please let me be alive for now! I won’t mind dying in some other way, with any ritual. Please God! Please!”

~~~

For:  Mondays Finish the Story 

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