General Fiction posted January 5, 2017

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Crocodiles share with humans.

Where Crocodiles Share

by Lloyd T. Okoko

I struggled in my dream to stop them. They were trespassers poaching fish in Abadunoun. But I am prevented from stopping them, because I could neither move my hands nor my feet from where I stood watching them. I tried shouting at them but my voice was nowhere to be found. I was still struggling when Ipudu suddenly appeared as their benefactor.

"You do Ogoromani much wrong,Venerable one; getting total strangers to poach fish in Abadunoun," I confronted her.

"Poaching fish! Is that what you see them doing? Just take a proper look," she cautioned me contemptuously.

I obeyed her command and took a closer look and reported what I saw. "I see crocodiles constituting themselves into a bridge that would facilitate passage from this bank where we are standing to the opposite bank. But what is the meaning of the ululation among them?" I asked her.

"It is there own way of sharing in your grief. The Crocodiles of Abadunoun share not just in your days of harvest and celebrations; they equally share in your moments of grief."

"Why are they grieving?" I asked, "And for what; and for whom?"

"You're so naïve even as a grandfather. You carry out ceremonies in the physical without necessarily being privy of the relay race that goes on between the physical and spiritual realm?"

"Tell me more,Wise one! I need you to unfold this mystery and lay it bare before me."

"Where you not the one who ordered the immediate implementation of the fire-sticks-cross over ceremony of your son?"

"Yes, I did; just as directed by you, Venerable one."

"What you see happening here is an indication that it was properly executed in the physical and wholly accepted in the spiritual."

I bursted out crying in the traditional mourning song of Ogoromani peculiar to the loss of a child. Suddenly, a group of crocodiles gathered around me, crying and sympathising with me. Ipudu held back her anger over my show of disillusionment; expecting me to advertently reappraise myself and re-assert my manliness. But when she did not see this happening, she vehemently struck her Akparamabasi on the ground and growled at me to stop crying. "It is only the crocodiles that are allowed to weep; and not you. You must not be seen grieving, however grievous the circumstances may be. For if you choose to do so; like I see you doing already; who would encourage the rest members of the bird-house-canoe to keep pulling in the event of an adverse water current?"

I woke up with a start; sweating profusely. I moved out of my bed and tried to recapitulate. I was not moved by Ipudu's presence in the nightmare. Neither was I facinated by the successful cross over of my son to the great beyond. But I was rather moved by the wailing and and consistent grieving of the crocodiles over my dreamworld plight.

Worst Nightmare writing prompt entry
Writing Prompt
Write a poem or story about your worst nightmare. If submitting a poem change the type to poem on the submission page.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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