Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Story Planning: Hell on Earth



“FORSAKE ALL HOPE, ALL YOU THAT ENTER HERE.”

That is a portion of the phrase that looms above the entrance to hell in Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy.  

“ARBEIT MACHT FREI” (Work will set you free; work sets you free)

That is the phrase that was displayed above the entrance to many concentration camps in Nazi Germany and other Nazi ruled countries.  

The entrance to Dachau.  Courtesy of wikipedia

 
When I look at the two phrases in context, I believe that the second phrase is much more shameful and horrific.  It was a lie.  The slogan from Dante’s Inferno would’ve been equally appropriate at the gates of the concentration camps.  Although early on, some prisoners in the work camps were set free, but most of the time, they were imprisoned again shortly afterwards.  The Nazis had no intention of releasing their prisoners, no matter how hard they worked.  At least Satan was honest… 

Like I said in my reading notes post, if I choose to write a story based on Dante’s writings and the Holocaust, I want to ensure that I’m careful.  I don’t want to be disrespectful in any way toward those who suffered at the hands of the Nazis.  With that being said, here are a few ideas:

I.  Satan is trying to determine which circle of hell Hitler and his followers belong in, and they walk through each ring discussing why he may belong there.  His disgusting acts that fit each ring of hell could be briefly discussed.  Of course, he would end up being placed in the last ring, and may even end up being personally punished by the devil himself. 

II. I could take a different approach, and write a story that still includes Dante and Virgil, but instead of touring hell, they are touring Nazi Germany.  Virgil tells Dante about the groups of people who were persecuted there, and some of the atrocities that were committed.  Virgil could even discuss those who would belong in Limbo: the people that were aware of what was going on, but that did not try to help.  Though they did not “actively” sin, they did so passively, and as we see in the original source, that’s enough to deserve hell.   It could be a reunion between the two, even. 

I don’t feel strongly about either approach, and I’m still considering whether or not this is even worth attempting, because again, I don’t want to be insensitive. 


Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Story: The Feathers

 P is for pride.


If you let yourself become too proud,
Your reality will start to cloud.
And when your ego becomes inflated,
everyone around will feel nauseated.


 V is for vengeance.


Severe anger and
plotting continuous harm
will consume your soul.







“Papa, tell me the story about the peace pipe’s feathers again,” the young boy chirped. 

“Sure, my boy,” the grandfather replied.  “Many years ago the Omaha people gathered to make peace pipes to use for settling conflict between tribes.  They made the pipe out of the bark from an ash tree, but to complete the pipe they needed the feathers of an eagle.  They performed a ceremonial dance, and called for the feathers of a great and mighty bird to help them bring peace.  A Bald Eagle, a Spotted Eagle, and an Imperial Eagle all offered their feathers to the tribe, but the chief only allowed the Imperial Eagle’s feathers to be used, because he was the only moral bird.”

“What about the feather of the Bald Eagle?” the boy asked. 

“No, they could not use them,” the man replied. 

“Why not?”



A Bald Eagle feasts on a carcass.  Courtesy of USFWS' Flickr

“The Bald Eagle is a mighty bird, but is also the proudest bird, and this quality has caused it grief.  The Bald Eagle is proud because, many years ago, the other birds admired a Bald Eagle’s beauty, and they were quick to let her know.  Soon the eagle felt superior to the other birds, and demanded that they serve her.  At first, many of the birds complied – they brought her food, built her nest, and defended her eggs while she was away.  She ruled over the other birds, but soon forgot how to do many things herself.  As winter approached, the other birds prepared to migrate south, but not the Bald Eagle.  The Bald Eagle had become very proud; she did not think the cold would cause her trouble, and she did not expect the other birds to leave her.  She barely made it through that winter, so she was happy to see the other birds return in the spring.  When the Bald Eagle demanded that the other birds serve her once again, they refused. The Bald Eagle decided she would still not hunt for herself, and thus began stealing the prey of other birds and searching for dead creatures to eat.  She remained in the north throughout the harsh winters, even if it meant suffering or losing an egg to the weather.  The Bald Eagle would have had a much better life without her pride. Still to this day Bald Eagles steal prey, feast on dead animals like vultures, and refuse to migrate south to more suitable weather, because they are too proud to ask for help.”  

The boy nodded and then asked, “What about the feather of the Spotted Eagle?”

“No, they could not use them,” the man replied.

“Why not?”
Spotted Eagle. Courtesy of Wikimedia


“My boy, the Spotted Eagle is a creature of revenge.  Many years ago, a snake was crawling through the grass searching for food. He had not eaten in many days and was very hungry.  He came upon a nest containing three very large eggs.  He began to eat of one of the eggs, but before he could finish, he heard a loud shriek behind him.  The mother of the eggs, a large Spotted Eagle, had returned from gathering food and caught the snake in her nest.  To punish the snake, she slaughtered him and displayed his corpse near her nest to warn other intruders.”

“Yes, Grandpa, but he was eating her children!” the boy exclaimed with wide eyes.

“Yes, boy, and his punishment may very well have been appropriate, but I am not yet finished with the story,” the man replied.  “As I was saying, the mother Spotted Eagle was still very angry at the snake for trying to harm her children, so she began to hunt for other snakes too.  She wanted to kill them before they could get to her eggs.  Hunting for snakes soon turned into hunting for other lizards, but her lust for revenge still was not satisfied.  The eagle began killing lizards, destroying their eggs, and making their nests into her own.  The mother taught all her offspring the same habits, and now to this day, all Spotted Eagles continue her endless desire for revenge.”

“Grandpa, tell me more about the Imperial Eagle! Why were his feathers chosen for the pipe?” the boy begged.


“That is a story for another night, my boy, for now you must go to bed.”







Author's Note:

My source story was The Legend of the Peace Pipes from Myths and Legends of the Great Plains by  Katharine Berry Judson (1913).  In this story, people of the Omaha tribe come together to construct a peace pipe.  Peace pipes are usually ceremonial pipes that represent war and peace within and between tribes, and in this story the Omaha chief wants the pipe to be made of certain materials. The pipe is made out of the bark of an ash sapling, but is missing something... Three types of eagles - the Bald Eagle, the Spotted Eagle, and the Imperial Eagle - offer their feathers to the tribe to use to finish the peace pipes.  The chief declines to use the feathers of the Bald and Spotted Eagles, but is satisfied with the Imperial Eagle's feathers.  The story does not explain why the other feathers are unappealing to the chief, so my story works to fill in those gaps.  I think that the chief would have had spiritual reasons for not using the feathers of the Bald and Spotted Eagles, and I assume they would be related to the character (or morality) of the birds.  The theme of an immoral alphabet comes from A Moral Alphabet by Hilaire Belloc, 1899. The letters P and V are courtesy of Maelle K on dafont.com

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Story Planning: Avian Elements of the Peace Pipes

My source story was The Legend of the Peace Pipes from Myths and Legends of the Great Plains by  Katharine Berry Judson (1913).

My original reading notes: 
The Legend of the Peace Pipes
"This is my favorite story in part A of this week's reading; it gave me so many ideas.  First of all, there are blatant mentions of immoralities (that the peace pipes are meant to remedy) at the end of this story, which makes it a potential candidate for my portfolio.  I enjoyed the incorporation of the different types of plants and animals, and I found it intriguing that the tribal chief was so meticulous about which sapling or feather should be used to make the peace pipes.  My story idea is to have the rejected plants and animals represent an immorality, possibly the two explicitly mentioned in the story.  I'd explain more about why the chief did not want to use these materials to build the peace pipes, and show that it was because they came from beings that were not peaceful or moral. "

----------

I still have a similar plan for this story in the sense that I want to explain why the spotted and bald eagle were not allowed to contribute a feather to the tribe's peace pipe.  I knew I wanted to include some immorality themes, which I elaborate more on later, but I wasn't sure how to go about this story.  I was leaning toward keeping the same style of storytelling as the original story, and almost making my story seem like a "lost book" or part of the original.  I'm honestly not sure of any other style I could use to tell the story in the way that I intend.   

I consulted several wikipedia articles to learn more about some of the elements in this story, and hopefully gain more inspiration.  

Article: Ceremonial Pipe
I learned about "peace pipes" while reading this article, and this gave me more ideas for my possible story.  Ceremonial pipes can be used as a sort of treaty, and can represent war or peace within a tribe. The use of "peace pipes" varies by Native American tribe, though, and I did not find anything too specific about how the Omaha tribe used their peace pipes. 

Article: Great Spotted Eagle
A spotted eagle is featured in this story - he drops a feather to the tribe, but they decide against using it in the construction of their peace pipe, although they do not elaborate on why.  I discovered that the scientific name for the spotted eagle, clanga, translates to "scream."  Because I plan to elaborate on why these birds' feathers were not used to make the peace pipe, I've decided I will make the spotted eagle represent "cowardice."  I think cowardice would be frowned upon by the Omaha tribe, especially if the peace pipe is meant to represent both war and peace. 

A "vengeful" bald eagle. Courtesy of Jerry and Pat Danaho on Flickr
A bald eagle is also a rejected peace pipe candidate in my source story, so I also plan to elaborate on why.  In this story, the peace pipe is meant to prevent revenge, so I think I will make the bald eagle a vengeful character in my rendition.  

The imperial eagle presents the feather that is chosen to be used in the peace pipe, and in my story I will explain why his feather was chosen.  It will probably be along the lines of this bird representing a thriving "empire" or in this case tribe. 

I didn't really want to do a story planning post this week, but I was having such trouble coming up with a story despite having a good idea about everything I want to include.  I'll reexamine this story next week, and decide if I want to make something out of it, or if I'd rather start over with a new unit and story.  

Monday, October 17, 2016

Story: The Chronicles of the Wonderful Turtle



J is for jealousy:
He’s got a calm demeanor.

He’s kind and he’s wise.
But which is greener: 
His grass or your eyes?






A is for Adultery:

When you say "I do"
it’s beyond your purview
a new love to pursue,
for what may ensue
is he bid you adieu. 







Extra, extra! Read all about the rise and fall of the reptile known as the "Wonderful Turtle"!


A hero is born.  Image made using canva. Photo courtesy of yum9me on Flickr
Full Article:

A local turtle became a tribal hero this week after defusing a conflict between two of the fiercest Chippewa warriors. Akecheta, 27, and Chaytan, 32, got into a heated argument over a personal matter, which nearly escalated to bloodshed. The two men visited the chief in an attempt to resolve matters, but despite speaking with the men for hours, they did not find a resolution. “I started to worry when the men did not seem pleased with my solution,” Chief Sassaba tells our reporter. “I knew I had to find another way to resolve this conflict.”

The chief finally decided to ask an unexpected party for advice on the matter, so he reached out to his personal friend known as “Mr. Turtle.” Mr. Turtle resides near the large lake just south of the Chippewa village, but had never before visited the village.
“Mr. Turtle is very wise, so I thought he may be able to help with this matter. When I asked him for assistance, he said he’d come right away,” the chief explained. When Mr. Turtle arrived, the entire village was tense, and many were worried about a battle breaking out between the men. Mr. Turtle sat in the chief’s throne, and began deliberating with the men; this lasted several hours before they finally compromised.

According to the two men, Mr. Turtle explained that they were both correct, and offered them “very wise” advice regarding the matter. The men declined to provide details about the conflict and the advice. Nevertheless, the entire village seems to have fallen in love with the reptile, who they are now referring to as the "Wonderful Turtle." We briefly talked with Mr. Turtle, who said, “I’m honored that the chief asked me for assistance in this matter, and I’m delighted I could help.”
“I’m very grateful for the love and support the Chippewa tribe has shown me. I’m going to make this village my new home,” Mr. Turtle told the Sun.
On behalf of the Chippewa Sun: we are very thankful to have you, Wonderful Turtle!




The turtle finds love.  Image made using canva.  Photo courtesy of StarsApart on Flickr

Full Article:
Chippewa’s local hero the “Wonderful Turtle” is set to marry the chief’s daughter this December. The two met after the turtle helped prevent a violent fight between two Chippewa warriors earlier this spring. Those who know the couple state that they are “soulmates” and say that they are, like many other villagers, excited for their ceremony.

Not every resident of the village is excited for the marriage though. We talked with a few local men, who wish to remain anonymous, about how they feel about the upcoming wedding. “I think it’s absurd! Such a beautiful woman should be with a warrior, not a turtle,” says one man.
Another man stated, “I think the chief’s daughter deserves to be with someone else. There are many more eligible men in the village besides that old reptile.” Sources tell us that those expressing anger or jealousy over the wedding will be barred from attending the ceremony.

Whether you are looking forward to or dreading the ceremony, it will be held at sunset on December 11th at the chief’s residence. Further details regarding the guest list, food and drink, and more will be published as we are made aware of them.


The Wonderful Turtle involved in a scandal.  Image made using canva.  Photo courtesy of Wikimedia



Full Article:
An idealistic marriage was torn to shreds recently when local hero and husband of the chief’s daughter, Mr. Turtle, discovered that while he was away his wife had an affair and bore a child. Our sources tell us that Mr. Turtle went on a trip over the winter, and returned home to find his wife cradling a child that he says “looks nothing like” him. The Chippewa village has been eager for the couple to have children, and many claim the couple was actively trying before Mr. Turtle’s trip. Both Mr. Turtle and the chief’s family declined to comment on the matter, but an insider revealed to us that Mr. Turtle will be moving out of the village. It is unclear at this time who the father of the chief's daughter's son is.



Author's Note:
The Wonderful Turtle tells the story of a turtle who is asked by his friend, the chief of a Chippewa tribe, to help resolve a potentially violent conflict between tribe members. Thanks to his great wisdom, the turtle is able to resolve the conflict, and soon becomes known as the "Wonderful Turtle" by the tribe. His wisdom and fame win him the love of the chief's daughter, and they wed. The turtle gets left behind during a journey, and ends up just sleeping through the winter. When he awakes and returns home, he sees that his wife has had a baby! He is excited until he notices that the child is not his. This story is from Myths and Legends of the Sioux by Marie McLaughin, 1916. I chose to use a newspaper headline type theme for this story to highlight the many "newsworthy" events that happen to the turtle in this story. I enjoyed the simplicity of the story, as well as the twist at the end in which the Wonderful Turtle's wife commits adultery - how immoral! The original story also highlights the jealousy of the other men in the village; they want to marry the chief's daughter. I couldn't find a way to incorporate much of that into my own story, but I do consider it to be an "immorality" in this story.

The theme of an immoral alphabet comes from A Moral Alphabet by Hilaire Belloc, 1899. The letters J and A are courtesy of Maelle K on dafont.com

Monday, October 3, 2016

Story: Toy Train Sorcery

Author's Note:  This story is inspired by The Sorcerer of the White Lotus Lodge from The Chinese Fairy Book by R. Wilhelm, translated by Frederick H. Martens, 1921.  In this story, a sorcerer instructs his students to watch a bowl that is covered by another bowl while he's gone - no peaking at what's inside! Of course the pupils peak, and find that the bowl is filled with water, a small boat made of straw floating on top.  The sorcerer comes back and scolds them for disobeying him; he claims to know they disturbed the bowls because it caused his ship to capsize.  A similar instance occurs when the sorcerer tells his students to carefully watch a lit candle while he's gone, presumably to make sure it does not go out.  The students fall asleep and the candle goes out.  When they awake, they quickly try to relight it, but the sorcerer gets back and scolds them once again, claiming that he was made to navigate in the dark because of their inattention.  More things happen after this, including the sorcerer killing one of his pupils, being arrested, then escaping by fighting a giant, but all of those are irrelevant to my story, though interesting nonetheless!  I really liked the idea that the items left to the students by the sorcerer somehow affected him in real life, so I based my story entirely off of that.  (Unfortunately there's not really any immorality in my story, but I enjoyed writing it anyway!)
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The young boy leapt off of the school bus and burst through the front door, rushing to make his way to his bedroom.  His mother called for him to slow down, but he couldn’t hear her over his own excitement; he had been waiting all day to finally play with his new toys.  When he opened the door to his room, he shrieked with excitement when he saw the antique chest sitting on the floor.  The chest and all of its contents were given to the boy by his grandfather, who had been given it by his grandfather – they were at least a hundred years old.  He propped open the lid and briefly admired the trinkets before yanking out a delicately crafted train and the accompanying wooden sections.  He assembled the long, intricate track and placed the train on one end.  “All aboard! Fasten your seatbelts and enjoy the ride,” he announced as he gently pushed the train toward the other end, delightfully making sound effects as the train rolled along.  He suddenly felt a strange pull on the train and he let go in surprise.  He watched in amazement as the train moved along the tracks by itself, quickly picking up speed.

The antique toy train.  Courtesy of the California State Railroad Museum and Wikimedia Commons

“Does it feel like we’re going faster to you, honey? Like, a lot faster?” the woman said to her husband as she peered out of the window of the train. “Hmm?” he replied, only half listening as he continued to type on his laptop. She continued watch the trees zoom by, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.  “Does it feel like we’re going too fast?” she repeated after a few minutes, this time putting her hand on her husband’s shoulder.  “Look,” she insisted.  He sighed and glanced out of her window to appease her, but he felt uneasy with what he saw.  Everything outside of the train was almost indistinguishable - the forest looked like a green blur.  He began to notice that the train ride felt more like an airplane zooming down a runway.  “Yeah, yeah,” he hesitated, “you’re right, we are going a little fast.  I’ll go ask our attendant if this is normal,” he said as he stood up.  He walked toward the front of their carriage, noticing that other passengers were starting to look confused and alarmed as well.  As he approached the attendant, the train went over a bump and he lurched forward, nearly falling down.  After the man regained his balance, he squared his shoulders and softly cleared his throat.  “Excuse me, ma’am. Is this a normal speed for this train?” he asked the employee sitting at the front of the train car.  She turned to look at him, but said nothing. He looked back at his wife, who was watching him anxiously, her eyebrows furrowed. He cleared his throat again. “Doesn’t it seem like we’re going a little fast?  Is this norm- -“ Before he could finish his question, the train hurled off of the tracks, throwing the screaming passengers out of their seats as they plunged into a ditch.

The tragic train wreck. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons


The toy train clattered as it fell toppled off of the wooden tracks.  The boy stared at the train for a moment before slowly picking it up.  He began closely examining his new toy, looking for a motor or winding mechanism of some sort when he heard his mother calling him from downstairs -“Timmy, dinner’s ready!” she beckoned.  He wrinkled his forehead, set the train down, and raced toward the stairs.  He decided that he’d had enough of the train for now, and that maybe he’d play with the toy airplane after dinner instead. 


 
What could go wrong? Courtesy of Pixabay


Monday, September 26, 2016

Story: Women Who Kill

[The television screen slowly fades in, displaying a tall, middle aged, grey haired man standing in a dimly lit studio.]

Dennis: “Hello.  My name is Dennis Farina, and welcome to another chilling episode of ‘Women Who Kill.’”

Photo made using Canva

Dennis: “This week we will explore the gruesome story of the woman known as the Jealous Wife, who intended to murder her sister-wife’s child, but instead made a grave error. On May 18, 1995, Kenan Sudi prepared to embark on his biannual sixth month journey to trade.  He would leave behind his two wives, Naki and Iman, and their young sons.”

[Naki appears on the screen. The clip is obviously from a pre-recorded interview.  She is wearing a blue, longed sleeve shirt and a yellow, silk covering over her hair.  She is seated in front of a dark cloth background.  Her dark, almond shaped eyes look sadly but matter-of-factly into the camera as she speaks.]

Naki: “I remember like it was yesterday.  Iman and I always dreaded Kenan’s trips out to the bush to trade, but they were necessary, especially after the birth of our sons.  My son, Zere, had just turned eight, and Iman’s son, Edet, was ten.  I remember them crying, begging their father to stay.  Kenan left us a month’s worth of food, but when we ran out, Iman and I had to take turns going out for two or three days to fish; we couldn’t take the kids, it was too harsh for them.  Iman went first, so I stayed behind to care for Zere and Edet.”

[Dennis reappears on the screen, still in the studio]

Dennis:  “Iman returned after three days with plenty of fish, so it wasn’t until late July when Naki had to take her turn fishing at the river.  She had done this a few times before with no complications, and she did not expect this time to be any different”  

[The clip from Naki’s interview resumes.]

Naki:  “I left for my trip early on a Sunday morning.  I kissed both boys goodbye, and waved to Iman.  I had gone through this ritual several times in the past, but I still hated to leave my son.  I missed him every second I was gone.
Zere was an exceptionally bright boy, whereas Edet was a little slower - we thought it may have been due to a developmental issue.  Of course we never spoke of it. We loved both boys, or… at least - *quiet cough* at least I did.  Sometimes I felt like it bothered Iman - that my son was smarter than hers - but she never said anything about it, so I thought nothing of it.”

[The camera is back on Dennis in the studio.]

Dennis:  “Naki had no idea of Iman’s intentions… but the day after Naki left, Iman put her plan into action.  She sharpened a razor blade, and crept into the boys’ shared room.  She approached the place where Zere usually slept, and began violently slicing the boy all over his body.  The autopsy report indicates the boy was cut over 60 times; the deep gash in his neck proved to be fatal.  As she attacked the boy she thought was Zere, the other boy ran out of the house and took refuge at a neighbor’s house, who called the police.”

[A police officer appears on screen, in a similar looking room that Naki was shown in.  He is a middle aged man with a thick brown mustache; only half of his mouth seems to move when he speaks.]

Officer Dabir: “It had been a slow day at the station, so when we got the neighbor’s call – about a young boy possibly being murdered – we weren’t prepared for what we were about to encounter. Eight other officers and I kicked down the door, guns and flashlights extended.  We heard a noise in the back bedroom, and went inside.  We found a woman, who turned out to be Iman, crouching over a small body; her clothes and the carpet were soaked in blood.  It was awful… the boy hardly looked like a human.  It was a sight that’ll be burned into my memory forever.”

The Crime Scene.  Courtesy of Tony Webster, Wikimedia Commons


[Dennis reappears on the screen.]

Dennis:  “Iman intended to kill Naki’s boy, but mistook her own son for Zere."

[Naki reappears.  She is in the same setting, but is now sobbing.]

Naki:  “Wh-when I came back… I- I just couldn’t believe it.  I am so fortunate that Zere is still with me, but I mourn every day for Iman and the loss of Edet… Jealousy turns people into monsters.”
[The studio reappears.]

Dennis:  “Iman was arrested and charged with first-degree murder and after confessing, she was sentenced to death.  She was executed on April 13th, 1998, but the horror of her crime will never be forgotten.  We reached out to Kenan, who has since divorced Naki and moved to South Africa.  He refused to be interviewed or to comment on the case.


That’s all for this week’s episode of Women Who Kill.  Goodbye and sleep tight.”


[A soft, eerie song plays as white credits roll over a black screen.] 


Author's Note: This story was inspired by The Jealous Wife from Notes on the Folklore of the Fjort by Richard Edward Dennett, 1898.  I kept my version fairly true to the original, which tells the story of a wife who is extremely jealous of her "sister-wife's" son, because he is so much brighter than her own son.  While the other wife is out fishing, she attempts to kill the boy with a razor blade during the night.  It is dark in the room, so she accidentally ends up killing her own son.  The evil woman is killed at the end of the story, when the husband finally believes that she is the one who killed the boy.  I wanted to keep the same grisly story, but give it a "true crimes" essence, instead it feeling more like a fable.  I also wanted to bring it a little more into the future, but not too recent to where the characters would have cell phones or anything like that.  I also wanted to ensure that I illustrated an immoral quality, which is jealously, in case I want to include this story in my portfolio.   

Monday, September 19, 2016

Story: Life & Death, Horror & Theft.


T is for theft.
It violates the norms,
Yet it comes in several forms.
Robbery and theft,

Reveal a life so bereft.



M is for murder.
The state of living:
Once taken, never regained.

Irreplaceable. 





The monk traipsed through the dark, foreign woods. The sound of the autumn leaves crunching beneath his boots was the only thing distracting him from the sinking pain in his chest.  He wiped a cool bead of sweat from his forehead and perched on a mossy rock.  He had been walking for what felt like an eternity, desperately trying to escape his village and the harrowing events that he witnessed merely hours ago.  He closed his eyes, but his eyelids only showed him the image of what he was trying so hard to ignore.  He saw Coral’s face - her smooth porcelain skin and her long brown eyelashes framing her twinkling blue eyes.  He savored her image for a moment, inhaling deeply in hopes to catch a whiff of her delicate perfume.  As he exhaled, a sharp gust of wind rushed past him, mimicking Coral’s soft giggle, and he winced as it stung his face.  He shut his eyes tighter and tucked his face in his arm, but the peaceful image of his wife was suddenly replaced by a replay of her last moments - drenched in sweat, quivering under pounds of blanket and wool.  Despite the freezing air, he felt the warmth of fire on his cheeks as he pictured her burning corpse. The monk slumped to the ground in sorrow. He forcefully opened his eyes to rid himself of the nightmarish scene, releasing a frigid stream down his cheeks.  He carefully stood up and continued to walk north, hoping to find a warm place to sleep.  Eventually he caught a glimpse of a dim light in the distance, and began to trek toward its source.  He approached a cabin on the outskirts of a small village and quietly peered in a window.  A small family bustled around the kitchen, preparing for dinner, so the monk decided to knock.

The forest, courtesy of Moyan Brenn on Flickr

The door cracked open and a lanky, bearded man craned his neck through the opening and peered at the monk. The monk explained that he was traveling to the monastery to become a bhikkhu after the death of his wife, and that he needed a place to sleep.  Before the man had a chance to reply, the door swung open and the man’s wife greeted the monk and ushered him into the warm house, insisting that he join them for dinner.  The monk glanced at the lamb cooking over an open flame, breathed in the aroma of freshly baked naan, and gladly accepted. 

A fire roars from within the house. Courtesy of Pixabay


The wife began serving everyone as they sat around a small kitchen table.  She filled her husband’s plate, the monk's, and lastly the plate of her son, whose young eyes were fixated on the monk.  Halfway through the meal, the boy became unsettled and began to whimper.  The boy’s whimpers soon turned into wails and his legs began to flail.  The parents tried to comfort the boy, whispering in his ear and patting his head and shoulder, but their efforts were futile; the boy continued to sob.  The mother looked over at the monk and mouthed an apology.  Before the monk could reassure her, the woman forcefully yanked the boy up by his arm and slung him into the roaring fire.  The monk watched in horror as the boy drowned in the flames.  The smell of burnt flesh filled the house, and after what felt like an eternity, the only remaining noise was the crackling of the calm flames.  The mother noticed the monk’s terror and laughed, the father slowly stood up and walked into the next room.  The monk began to tremble; he felt that his fate was sealed.  The man walked back into the kitchen holding an old ivory book.  Frozen in fear, the monk grimaced as he saw the parents of the boy walk over to his ashes. He began surveying the home for the quickest way out.  Before the monk could dart, the man and woman began chanting strange words and dancing around the boy’s remains.  Slowly, the ashes began to rise and swirl about the room.  A dark cloud filled the room, causing the monk to cough uncontrollably.. 

When the air cleared, the monk looked at awe as the little boy stood up, appearing unharmed but slightly confused.  The man and woman revealed the secrets of the ivory book, explaining that it could bring back the dead.  The monk masked his bewilderment as he listened to the couple, frequently looking back at the boy, who was now playing with a toy.  Soon it was time for bed, and the monk knew he had to flee, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the powers of the book.  When he was sure they had drifted to sleep, he quietly got up, gathered his things, and then began searching for the book.  He eventually spotted the book, grabbed it, and then quickly snuck out of the front door, eager to get back to his wife’s remains. 

The Ivory Book of the Dead. Found in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City. Wikimedia Commons

As he exited the house, the monk heard a loud shriek, so he began to run.  The noise followed him, but gradually became quieter and eventually stopped as the monk got further from the house.  When he felt he was a safe enough distance away, the monk held the book to his chest and sat down.  The monk soon dozed off, but was suddenly awaked by a familiar voice.  He looked up; it was Coral.  The book started to feel warm on his chest - it continued to grow hotter.  The monk stood up, but as soon as he opened his mouth to call out for her, he burst into flames.  The monk yelled in agony.  The image of Coral disappeared as the flames consumed him.  After the monk took his last breath, the blaze dissipated; the only trace of his presence was the ivory book lying on the ground unscathed.  




Author's Note:
I pulled this story from Twenty-Two Goblins: The Three Lovers translated by Arthur Ryder.  Twenty-Two Goblins tells the story of a king who sets out to help a monk recover a body from the woods.  Here's the catch: the body is possessed by a goblin, who makes the king answer riddles in order to transport him.  If the king answers the riddle correctly, the body/goblin are transported back to where they were originally found, and the king must go back to retrieve them.  If the king does not know the answer to the riddle, he can continue to carry the body to the monk, who is also waiting somewhere in the woods.  If he king does know the answer, but lies and says he doesn't, his head will explode.  What a fun game!  My story is based off of one of the goblin's riddles, where he describes the death of a beautiful woman with three lovers.  Each man reacts to her death differently.  One man becomes a monk and travels around and encounters a family who offers him dinner and a place to stay.  The mother ends up murdering her son during dinner, but then uses a mysterious book to bring him back to life.  The monk steals the book in the middle of the night, and goes back home, where he eventually uses it to bring his dead wife back to life.  A bhikkhu is an ordained male monk in Buddhism.  

The two immoralities in my story are theft and murder.  The monk steals the magical book from the family in order to attempt to bring his wife back from the dead.  He's only made aware of this book's magical powers due to the demonstration of the woman using it to bring back her dead son that she brutally killed in front of him.  Although the boy brought back to life, this is obviously not possible in real life, hence my haiku.  The theme of an immoral alphabet comes from A Moral Alphabet by Hilaire Belloc, 1899. The letters T and M are courtesy of Maelle K on dafont.com