29 April 2008

Carthage: Year Zero

So tired. So very tired. This will do. Lots of fish, the smell of hogs mixing with the sweet smell of myrrh. This will do.

At the rise of the full moon, the small group of nomads gathered in the valley between the the river and the surrounding hills. A woman came forward and removed a small chip of dark stone from her belt, and with her eyes closed lifted it above her head so the moonshine glowed off the jagged edge.

"Hawm," the crowd murmered in approval and assent.

The woman reached up and took one large matted dred from atop her head, and sawed at it until it came free in her hand. She then made three short cuts in her palm, letting the blood mix with the severed hair. The crowd opened, creating a passage leading to a small hole to the South. She walked slowly, blood dripping from her hand, knelt on the grass and placed the hair in the pit. Two young boys started piling the dirt atop the offering.

Turning to the crowd, she made eye contact with as many of the crowd as she could, took a deep breath, and, in a surprisingly deep voice, declared, "We are settled. Forevermore, we shall live in this valley. Welcome to Carthage, your new home."


(from http://civisibles.blogspot.com/ )

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