The Mask

The plagues were making a comeback again in Moriah’s locality. It was frustrating to have to keep confronting this nebulous enemy. Moriah and the people had some meetings, as they pondered what to do about the plague and the advice of the Leprechauns and the Dwarves.

Some people locked themselves in their homes and stayed away from all, letting the dwarves bring them food for a price. Others escaped to relatives in the country, as the bigger communities were hot spots of the plague.

Moriah got the plague and survived but could not prove that she did. In any event she did not want to take the dwarves’ potions to give her immunity. She was sure she had immunity from tangling with the plague.

Some stayed at home and put a cross up for protection

Moriah ignored the rumors going around, that the potions would cause you to stand on your head, or cause a young woman to be barren. Other said it magnetized people and that they wold fly away into the sky. Moriah had some flying dreams and that was plenty for her.

When she decided to take the potions, then the noise in her head got very loud until she let go and said no. When the question of travel came up she was in a quandary. Most of her friends and relatives had taken the potions. They were keen to have Moriah do so as well.

The potions came in all kind of packages

Now Moriah had friends who were pressuring her to get the potions that would prevent the plague. They wanted her to get them for the sake of the community and for the sake of the children. They wanted her to wear a mask.

One day she came back to find a note on her door pleading with her to take the potions. She was surprised and thought at first one of her sisters had left her a note about visiting her. When she realized what it was, her face got warm and she clutched it to her as she went inside her house.

Writing on her door

She went to the western window, full of light and read “Take the potion for the sake of the children. Wear the mask.” 

This note smacked of another way to exclude her.  Moriah was especially sensitive since one of her friends had banned her from visiting. 

Moriah, crashed around, seeing to the turf fire, to make sure it did not die out and tried to get the kettle on only to find it was empty. Moriah galloped back and forth in her mind until her poor head was like thundering horses hooves and her head was full of noise again, and no amount of water in the kettle would help.

Standing at the Western Window

She decided to go outside and cool off. Moriah walked over to the pine tree and sat in a wooden rocking chair, and pulled her wool shawl around her. She lit a candle with some difficulty.

Then she lit some incense in the hope that the smell of her meditation times would run across her frontal brain inside her head and quiet down the noise. She hoped to reduce her ego and the aerating effects it was having on her cells puffing her up into a fine temper. She was determined to get back down where she was before seeing that piece of paper.

Wild horses in her head

She held the sweet smelling wood to her temple, saying prayers of peace, like Druid Bernie had taught her. She put it too close and nicked a burn into her skin and heard the sizzle of her small hairs of her eyebrow burning a little, with an accompanying nasty smell of its own.

The busy bee

She was glad that her little intentional ritual left her back down on the ground where she wanted to be. She fell into the presence of the sounds of nature, the thrush, the blackbird singing and the song of the cuckoo down the bank wth clear notes penetrating her brain. She heard and felt the wind in the nearby trees .

A pine cone hit her on the head

A pine cone hit her on the head.

Now she felt she could compromise and wear the mothering masks. She knew it might help her avoid any new varieties of the plague as well as protect children should she become a carrier of any new variety of the plague. The pine cone pounce on the head was the final adjustment she needed. She felt she had been struck gently from above.

Now she was ready to be thankful for being alive, for having a place under the pine tree, for having the good sense to sit and breath and listen for that peace that came from above, coming down over her, a dress.

The birds

She picked up the pine cone and went inside with that bucket of water and filled the kettle, glad to see the fire had a little roar to it and she opened the oven to put the apple cobbler inside to heat up and have for supper. She had cream and she had honey.

She heard a knock on the door and Brother Bernie stepped inside full of smiles and enquiry after her wellbeing.  He was in high anticipation of a hot cup of tea after a long walk and the bubbling pale apple mixture was a delight to his eyes. There was just a small piece of that note on the hob and he used it to light his pipe noting only the one word left unburned “mask.” He broke off two bits of the pinecone and dropped it into his pipe.

A mask of sorts

They had a long conversation about masks and their common use. Moriah finally told him her story of the piece of paper she found on her door. 

One of the scarvees

When he was leaving he left three colorful handkerchiefs on the table so Moriah had plenty of masks. He said they came from Egypt and were sure to be of help. The End.

I was in West Virginia a few times this summer and stayed in a farmhouse on top of a mountain from which the views were magnificent. I was close to heaven. You know the deal, you pray for me and be assured I send out a prayer for my readers for light and love and healing to go your way.

About rlongwort

Licensed Professional Counselor. Dream specialist.
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