Saturday, November 8, 2008

the scribe

I would be dead soon. The pain was too great. My flesh was tied in knots and I could no longer carve the glyphs. I had no wife or children, so all my wealth would go to my Scroll of Eternity.

"What of your body?"

Asked my friends.

"Let the desert preserve me and my good deeds embalm me, for soon I will be the wind."

Such talk shocked my friends and they thought I put a curse upon my glyphs. After my death none would finish my glyphs and none would destroy my carvings.

Death wasn't what I knew it would be. My soul was never weighted. Many lives and deaths passed and one moment in eternity I looked at my glyphs with new eyes in a tomb of knowledge.

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