myth for tulsi

Girl and fox walked as always, eating snow plant and whatever squirrels the fox could hunt. The winds and snow and rain would come and the two kept fires and shelters and trembled. The truth was that this was no more than ten day’s time because they were very nearly at the top of the mountain. When they reached the summit there was a massive glacier that trembled and cracked, singing the guttural songs that only long frozen water can.

The moon was a sickle wedged into the mountain. No one had told Sweetie the moon does not take people easily. It’s not here for pleasure. It’s here in the darkness, witnessing tears and worries.

The woman who looked like a peach pit scraped stains off of a long red cloth onto the ice. Her frail body seemed strong despite her age. She didn’t look up as Sweetie approached. It looked as if she had leaves coming out of her legs.

“The moon is never hunted.” She said as she twisted the cloth.

“You have found a companion who has led you here.” She looked now.

Her eyes glowed purple and, as if she carried warmth and water with her, bees surrounded her. Golden anthers rose from all over her skin. This old lady of the moon was in bloom.

“You are useful to us now.”

The door to the moon dripped with cream. She felt that old familiarity - the one she had walked away from when she almost forgot her town. The simultaneous relief of the moon and the shame of her forgetfulness swept over her. She missed her mother now - someone she never really spoke to. She remembered how her mother used to smell, as they lay in bed, resting in the midday, like dirt and rust. She couldn’t have been older than four years old. The memory felt as subtle as a drop of sweat rolling down her side. Everything in the moon would give her what she needed. She understood this. She knew now that everything she had been was far away from her - untethered as she was. How far she had come, her home a scar she could trace with her finger. She would always forget. She was no red knight always looking and waiting for an eternity. She was a girl who - a long time ago - swallowed a seed with a friend named bitter. She didn’t deserve to leave her home, her purpose was rotting fruit in her stomach. Now she followed the words of a ghost person to find someone who would help save her town. She reminded herself of this fact but even now it was slipping away.

The fox stood on the mountain. She didn't know if he would follow her. She wouldn’t blame if he didn’t, the fox of the mountain, friend of the fireweed. The surprise was to feel her heart break as she entered the central chamber of the moon, a large, round place that opened up to the sky as the wall swooped up behind her like a wave. All of it Wet and warm. She didn’t want to leave the moon because she had as good as failed. It was too late, she could become a skeleton in the moon, a story about a woman in tears, who tried and didn’t make it. So many stories like that are written into the face of the moon. She would be just one more.

But the moon forgave her. The woman who was a peach pit let the red cloth drag behind her. It picked up the ivory mush of the moon as she went.

“Eat this first.” She said, and handed sweetie a sprig with purple flowers. “The moon changes because it loves you, you have to understand that. We don’t have tests or trials for you, but you will have to make a decision before too long has passed.” The doors to the chamber closed and sweetie was left alone.