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02 April 2015

favor of Fate

When waking up early to see to the rites she found it important a candle to light not one on the outside but one within her in hopes she'd the favor of Fate would incur. Things took a turn upward and her life improved and many a visitor felt himself moved when looking upon the things she did sculpt carve paint regardless if depicting sinner or saint. Her works were bought up by some people with means and she found herself mingling in between and rubbing her elbows with those who could pay for her bold wide strokes and her well-crafted clay. She took then to drinking her rites set aside and let herself fill up with envy and pride and let herself slack in her morning routine until her hard soul was dark callous and mean. Fate then frowned upon her and caused her to lose the customers who'd once her works had perused and she lost a child to drink and to vice and hers was a bed of rough hay-bales and lice. She left for far shores on a fast sailing-craft whose deckhands were able whose captain was daft whose course was erratic as that of a bat which lapped up grain liquor from an open vat. A storm did confuse them and they lost a mast to a prolonged furious sudden wind-blast and they then washed up on tropical isle where they found brown faces and curious smiles. She took to her new home with passionate zeal and did quickly learn how to whip up a meal from coconut milk and a few broken nuts and soon were smoothed over her addictions' ruts. She took her a husband and bore him a son who was a bright beautiful artistic one and soon she discovered the routines she'd known that were once abandoned in her distant home and became a priestess who shared with her tribe her wisdom and grace 'til the day that she died.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

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