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Paperback Writer

by P. S. Gifford
A well accomplished writer, P.S. had so many stories to tell, we had to give him his own space. Enjoy this new style of blog meets fiction!

Wednesday, April 23, 2006

Ancient Rituals

It must have been the frantic beating of the tribal drums that awakened her. Getting up and stretching, she once more examined her cage. She was unaware as too how long she actually had been there locked up, and she understood that any chance of escape would be futile.

A tall tanned muscular man all at once appeared. He stood there and his eyes explored her well rounded completely exposed body, and by the twisted smile on his face he seemed very satisfied by what he saw. Noticing the menacing look in his eyes, and perhaps sensing what wicked thoughts now raced through her captor’s mind, she huddled in the corner.

The first man was soon followed by three others, and the first of them with evident excitement opened the cage, his hands were trembling with anticipation. At this point the drumming intensified further, getting even louder and faster, whatever was going to happen, she understood that it would be soon... The other men also entered the cage and fairly soon found herself completely unable to resist as she was hogtied. The four men begin to pat each other on the back in a congratulatory fashion and then they reach down and effortlessly pick her up. They carry from her dingy cage out into the bright daylight.

Dozens, maybe hundreds, of people were gathered there and begin hooting, applauding and hollering as they watched on…This obviously encouraged the captor’s further, as they began to dance to the rhythm of the drums as they carried their prize.

Next she was placed onto a large flat rock. She desperately tried to move, yet the bindings had been tied with expert hands…She watched on helpless as the first man reached down to a leather sheaf that was attached to his left hip and pulled out a narrow bladed knife…He held the knife up to the applauding, ever growing, frenzied crowd. They cheered even louder and some began to chant. Then as the crowd reached a state of near frenzy he took the blade of the knife and skillfully, and with evident enjoyment, placed it on her skin directly above her heart. Then in one exaggerated gesture he plunged the knife deep into her young flesh… Pain almost overwhelmed her, and she felt life slowing draining from her. But before she lost consciousness for the final time, the other men took a long wooden pole, with one end fashioned into a sharp point and gradually they impale her.

Moments later her young body is lifted and ceremoniously paraded in front of the crowd. Then it is finally placed above a fire pit, which had been dug from the sand for this very occasion and was already glowing hot from burning charcoal. They place her onto a spit, and the men, delighting in the ritual, take jubilant turns in rotating the handle.




Five hours later, as the sun began to set, the hoards of flabby American tourists uniformly dressed in brightly colored polyester shirts file out of the five star hotel and onto the beach. They soon began sipping various oversized cocktails concocted from pineapple juice….And as the Hawaiian music played and the Hula dancers gyrated in their grass skirts the sweet, tantalizing smell of roasting pork filled the night as yet another luau commenced…




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