The Kidnapped Pilgrim

Photo Prompt Of A Fountain.
This week’s photo prompt is kindly provided by Dawn M. Miller. Thank you Dawn.

One fateful day, the machinery halted and they were all flung about. Unfortunately for Rewati, she fell on the solid floor. Exhausted, the ancient woman realised that she was going up. Her life flashed before her eyes.

Her proclamation as the Child from Heaven. The consequent yearly pilgrimage “to cleanse herself” from the sea to the mountains through the plains and back to the sea again. She had seen everything from dinosaurs to drive-in restaurants. From floods of the valley to the tsunami. She remembered her kidnapping near the plains. Being forced into slavery, she was made to move the machinery.

But something was different now and the machine had stopped. She braced herself as she was flung onto the concrete and she noticed a crowd gathering.

It took them some time but the engineers repaired and switched the fountain back on.

“Well, that’s fixed then, I suppose. ‘Tis a shame some water spilt on the concrete.”

“Never mind – look, it’s already dried”

The water dried. Rewati, continued on her pilgrimage in the direction of the winds – leaving behind whatever impurities that she had previously held.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Week (July 1 – July 7, 2015) – 189 words.

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The name Rewati was an anagram. It rearranges to I, Water. I read an article about how all water in this world is actually, naturally recycled water. That is, the water in your bottle might well have passed through the digestive tracts of dinosaurs. Pretty interesting perspective.

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Jack of many trades, master of none

10 thoughts on “The Kidnapped Pilgrim”

    1. Good you did.

      Rewati = I, water.

      I actually thought of making it Amraweti = I am Water; but Rewati sounded a more natural than Amraweti 😛 😀


      1. Yes it does. I wondered from the start why you spelled the name incorrectly (Revathi) but when you said there was an anagram somewhere, I immediately knew where it was!


  1. You have this habit of just wetting (whetting — ‘scuse the pun) my whistle with these little bits of stories. It always feels as if they should go on and on. Even the one with the letter wasn’t long enough to “quench my thirst!” (Oh good grief… enough already, Calen!) 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You sea, these puns never stop. I laughed so much I turned pail. I anchor-age your water puns.

      I, pundit.
      I punned it 😉

      How a-boat it?


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