Photo credit: Dorian Wallendar via Flickr
Farmer Kanna always prays twice, once for cause and once to his foreign god Sambar. But now he’s refused to make the spring sacrifice to Nynalla. It is one cut too many. Everyone grumbles, but he only protests louder. I shield my babes’ ears from his blasphemy.
The clouds roll across the plain, piling up like fresh-shorn wool in a god’s barn: dark below, shining white with anger on top. We rush to close up, but it’s too fast. The clouds surround us, sizzling, suffocating all earthly sound. I stare upwards, frozen. The sky cracks and pours out its deluge, drenching me instantly. Freed, I push against the winds to get the last sheep into the pen.
Huddled inside, the screaming storm batters us. Rain crashes sideways against the walls, seeping in. Lightning burns my vision. Thunder booms so loud, I cry.
It lasts only an hour, but it washes away the seed we had sown, drowns the fields.
We find Kanna in a ditch, still clutching his lamb, both of them burned black.
His wife trembles, her reddened eyes pleading. “I begged him!”
We do not blame her. She is one of us, strong and true. She can stay.
Word count: 200. Written for this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction. It’s been a ridiculously long time since I’ve been able to participate in this challenge, as I’ve been crazy busy with work. It’s great to be back! Big thanks to Susan for hosting the challenge, and to Terri Smeigh for providing the original photo prompt (below). Click on the link to read the other stories written for this prompt, or to add your own!
For those of you keeping track of Eneana deities, Nynalla is another local name for Kakika, the first deity who discovered Eneana, who is associated with the strongest nature-related magic. (Although Sambar is pretty good with a lightning storm himself.)
Photo © Terri Smeigh