Friday, September 27, 2019

Chief, Prolong, Select


The fire burned low; stars glowed overhead. Dozens of chiefs sat in a circle, quiet, contemplating. The pipe was reloaded three times with select herbs to accommodate all the attendees.

Some sat still, others swayed gently like a blade of grass in a breeze.

From within the circle, a prolonged fart.

An elderly man, lined of face and grey of hair, snickered, immediately followed by a distant horse whickering. Chuckles from various points fed an improper levity, until a grave looking elder started 
howling loudly.

The Keeper of the Pipe asked her assistant, “Which herbs did you use?”

“Those.”

“Ah.”

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