The Starving Activist is the sometimes-home for words. AR Neal (that’s me) finds them, cultivates them, and leaves them here. Enjoy.

Līgo Haībun Challenge, 8 March 2013: The Fortune of The Brave

I took a little liberty with this Līgo Haībun Challenge. The actual prompt as you can see if you visit the link was

Fortune Favours The Brave

I think my haībun on the Vanuatu Island N'gol speaks clearly to the idea of fortune (in this case, living through the ritual) favouring the brave (namely, the young chaps who go through the ritual). I welcome your thoughts, dear reader.

Farah looked out over the edge, amazed at how high he was; he had heard from those who had made this trip before him that looking out was necessary. It showed the guide that you were ready to be a man, as if the ritual itself wasn’t enough to take care of that. From his vantage point, he was convinced he could almost see the lights of Sydney far across the water to the south; more than likely it was simply the village fires on the other side of Port Vila. He took a deep breath, his toes curled around the bric-à-brac of the tower top; the structure had been there for longer than he had been alive, yet its fragility spoke to ancient strength. He looked at the stars above his head and then glanced again at the crowd of people below; they looked so small and their cheers were muffled by the breeze blowing past his ears. He took in a deep breath and exhaled his childhood as he leaped far into the air. The vines held as he fell and then was snatched up, the ground gently caressing his shoulders as he neared it. His guide, his father, clapped him on the back, smiling.

Childhood left behind;

I fall through air like a bird,

tethered to manhood.

Saturday Centus, Week One Hundred Fifty: Emergency

From Our Perspective