LOGINShare
Chapter 4: Yellow Flower Wedding - Part 2
Last Updated:
2021-07-25 13:04:03
The wedding celebration had been a happy affair with laughter and polite stories–––stories of the craggy hill and beyond it–––shared inside the enclosed wedding canopy–––the men in their formal sheer long-sleeved garments, tailcoats, vests, and suits and the women in their best dresses.
“Josie, thank you for the lovely party, dear.”
Macario Balat's wife, Epifania Balat, had been enjoying the nuptial celebration. Josefina and Ben waved and approached the table to where a couple of guests had been seated.
“Good evening, Epifania–– you're looking lovely with your long red dress, dear,” the women exchanged pleasantries and the men shook hands, a friend and an adversary in the trade of angling–– but more surel
M.I. LeeThe story may be graphic and should not be imitated in any way or form.
Related chapters
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 5: Helia Baal's Goat-Head Demon Servant
“Shoo...pesky little vermin!” said an old woman chasing away a murder of crows huddling all over her garden in the crag. At the front left side of her hut close to her whitewashed and straight spaced picket fence, the pesky loud birds had been munching and uprooting her germinating seeds of gold nugget squash and had scattered it all over the precipice. “Siegfried!” shouted the old woman, her voice croaky and angry– muttering, “I'm going to eat you whole if you were not a goat-head demon....” She swayed her broomstick of tied up flimsy twigs violently, shaking and clobbering, missing miserably at every crow that flew past and swerved over and near her head. Even more, her broom was not long enough to reach the crows that squawked and flew over in circles around the highest pinnacle of the triangular thatched roof of her little hut made o
Last Updated : 2021-07-31Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 6: Forgetting the Rhubarb and Not Giving a Fig - Incidents at the Grocer Shop - Part 1
A light-hearted spirit and free of affectation, a burst of bright beaming sunshine to herself, Maria treaded alone down the side of the long and wide bituminous-paved thoroughfare traversing the broad and unpaved craggy hill road to the bustling south-east part of the town at the foot of the hillside. A frumpy girl in her shirtwaist ensemble with layers of petticoats, she had been careful not to step out of the curb of the sidewalk to avoid the few passing coaches flogging their horses toward the roadstead to carry anxious passengers in a hurry to get to their employment. Strolling the uncluttered, ample, and shady sidewalk, along the old-fashioned kerosene lampposts, and the rows of delightful little shops with some dwarfed, nitid green and coriaceous weeping figs and fragrant and colorful geraniums or storksbills in large terracotta pots placed at the edge of the walkway, and with ornate door and high rainbow-colored window awnings
Last Updated : 2021-08-06Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 7: Forgetting the Rhubarb and Not Giving a Fig - Incidents at the Grocer Shop - Part 2
“Forgive me, Nicola– I'd be– are we now okay?” begged Maria and relieved that Nicola had reconsidered to take the available merchandise. “Yes– your sister said to be quick with you– have you got more to do?” said the shop attendant, glad that her fourberie not yet done had been ignored by the idiotic homely girl. “Mother asked me to get some oranges, would you mind me picking some fresh ones?” asked Maria. “No– the oranges are at the front,” answered Nicola back sharply over Maria's remark. “I'd be– thank you–,” blu
Last Updated : 2021-08-10Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 8: Forgetting the Rhubarb and Not Giving a Fig - Incidents at the Grocer Shop - Part 3 (Final Part of Incidents at The Grocer Shop)
“I didn’t do it,” mumbled Maria, low and confused, cares to the hot air that had filled her in her lungs. Smoke rose from her nostrils. She rubbed and blew her nose against her forearm. The inner and outer canthi of her eyes bursting up with water and cool salty tears streamed down. Last night, a very upset Celeste had reprehended their mother, Josefina. “Someone – our cashier – saw her,” cried Celeste, believing Nicola’s side of the story. “Lord Jesus! She was normal when she got home this morning!” observed Josefina. They were in the Bantoc’s open, light, and airy living room. Celeste in her peachy shirtwaist garment had been resting her buttocks on their family’s thickly padded homey nuptial couch with laidback floral tapestry covering. Her legs had be
Last Updated : 2021-08-16Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 9: The Census and the Sandburs - Part 1
The town-head and his council had conducted a census around the craggy hill area. They had completed the survey and had been issuing and posting census stickers on the houses of the craggy hill’s inhabitants. Census of Housing and Population, Leopoldo Surambaw’s census reports: The Craggy Hill is an island situated at the northeastern part. It has a total land area of 98,000 hectares and is estimated to have 148,000 inhabitants of which 45% are natives or pure locals, 15% are half-bloods and 40% are settlers. An average of abou
Last Updated : 2021-08-25Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 10: The Census and the Sandburs- Part 2 (Final Part of The Census and the Sandburs)
“More agronomists. Agriculture is thriving,” said the town-head, Leopoldo, when his census supervisors had settled down laughing. “I agree, can’t depend just by fishing, no–?” approved Ben to the town attracting more planters. Mr. and Mrs. Bantoc loosened up with the town council’s explanation, trusting their duty in the town. Creak! And Bang! The sound of a shutting spring door-stop echoed at the rooms adjoining the common sitting space and the kitchen. The people in the living room paid no attention but their shoulders shuddered briefly and continued chatting, except for Josefina who gave her awkward daughter a heads-up and a passing warning glance to keep the noise down. “Yes, mother,” said Maria, dim
Last Updated : 2021-08-30Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 11: Black-Winged Seraph
“HOY!” A little boy in red pants and buttoned, white, collarless shirt waved hello at an overweight girl entering the inner clearing, before the way divides to east and west and up north, onwards a stilted, square hut, “Grandpa, a big lady is heading this way!” Meh-eh-eh…Meh-eh-eh-eh! The worn-out, straw-hatted old man stopped what he was doing and looked on. He let go of one of the goats he had been tending. “Grrrrhhh!..Arf!..Arf! His two mongrels growled in excitement, gnashing their gnarling snouts, baring their fangs, chasing around to alert their master of a different, non-hircine scent. “She has a basket…maybe she has hotcakes!” The plump boy lively skipped and ran around after the barking mutts at the pen. &
Last Updated : 2021-09-03Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 12: Down into the Rabbit Hole
“How does one save a lost buck?” Maria exhaled nervously. All she had was the quadruped’s leash after a big, peculiar bird had severed the rope round its nape. Her pounding heart gripped her throat. The cries of the animal rang at the forgotten crag which had been seeding. She could manage through its naturally low, rocky curb but beyond the boundary was dense. Creeping vines and leafage as thick as the countless sand on the seashore had harbored the historic cavern and sunk around the entrance. However, the awkward girl had got little time to waste sightseeing. The attacker was perhaps also still at large. She had to hide for a while until the coast was clear. Again, called the goat, Meh-eh-eh. Maria was not an expert in mutton semiotics, so she had no discer
Last Updated : 2021-09-08
Latest chapter
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 21: To Kill a Robust Alive Chicken - Part 1
Whoosh! The frigid sea wind whooshed behind the awkward girl’s back. Maria caught the scent of a mossy redolence and a sweet perfume perfused as the sea wind passed through the overhanging wild white jasmines at the entrance of the secret chamber and brushed its mossy walls and up the slippery, mossy staircase as she made a step from the dim into the luminous cavern kitchen. Maria had followed one of the swollen fingers which she had believed had gone ahead of her. She had climbed the staircase and had stood in front of the trapdoor. The kip had been pushed aside to make a way of the trapdoor that opens to the secret chamber downstairs. The awkward girl wondered where the witch’s lookout went. She was startled when something pulled her lengthy, red gingham skirt that made her almost jump as she had belie
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 20: All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here!
The following day after they had the he-goat for mutton, Maria set off again to the crag to the witch’s garden. She had to keep her promise to the witch or else they would behest the seraph, or any of the witch’s creatures, to search and destroy her existence. The cool morning had made all the cocks crowed around the hillside. The sun was rising but the clouds were dense and the sunbeams formed a silver lining on the duplicitous stratocumulus. Maria had told her parents, “Mother, Father, I’m going to help out a woman at the west side of the craggy hill for a few days. The he-goat broke her omnium-gatherum and I have to pay her by helping her out in her garden.” Maria made a long story sho
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 19: Lazing the Afternoon Away
It was like one terrifying dream to another transfixing nightmare. It was said early morning dreams come true, except for the ones dreamt while lazing the afternoon away, the awkward girl, who had been awakened in her deep kip, had believed so much. However, afternoon dreams could too as she stared across by the cavern’s dining table to see a goat-headed man, a flying baby, severed limbs, and a witch amongst her. . Maria was dazed to find herself in someone’s kitchen. The last thing she remembered was falling into a damp secret cavern and the broken bottles that her goat had kicked when it got flustered. Earlier, a strident noise of pots crashing woke her from profound
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 18: The End of a Daydream
“I shall not lie down before I devour my prey.” Ditiori did not let anyone survive those who attacked his wife. They had slapped and pushed her. Maga had fainted. Dressed in her beautiful garments and all the finery of a woman, Maga had lain cold as the bleak temple floor. Her dark, hooded, velour cloak was a gift from her beloved, Ditiori. “Douche your hooded cloak in the ashes you’ve gathered. It will allay thorns and vermin and protect you, but it can’t protect you from an attacking human though—" Ditiori once said with joshing to his espoused. By the stream, they bathed and teased after washing their dirty clothes, enjoying dipping their bodies in the frigid cold water of the whistling stream. “It’s of no use then, I’m used to bush
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 17: Have You Seen the Love of My Heart?
An hour into a boorish repose in a godsend kip, a sweet dream of the star-blown constellations before golden caramel meadows had been swirled by a petrifying nightmarish reverie of a deity giving meat and the evil were cooks. Ditiori had no fear when the heat comes, his leaves were green; the year of the draught was no problem and he could always bear fruit. Desire and greed awakened amongst their brethren. They saw Maga in a white robe protruding with her grown belly. “Her white garment did not even fray or her feet swell.” They watched the beautiful Maga as she passed by the meadows where the community had been gleaning with the seeds that grew in a day. Maga had fallen pregnant with Ditiori’s chi
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 16: Rose From the Ashes
“Aha, just what we wanted!” The golden stout grains were planted. Mighty sprouts emerged as the soil swallowed the grains. The desolation of a field of thistles and tumbleweeds was now a bed of perpetual succor of green to golden. The people of the broad plains and rolling hills made a joyful noise. They broke into a song and sang ballads with string instruments, the melody of the lyre, and the music of the harp. “Streams have come out of the rocks and carried water to flow like a river— All glorious the day we
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 15: Making Flowers Blossom in a Day and Be Richer
“Let Maga approach and place the seeds to Ditiori’s servant first!” cried the people of the broad plains and rolling hills. They awaited surrounded by four colossal stone pillars of absent walls. Two of these pillars had supported the roof of the altar. Shadowy faces clamored. Orange light flickered on their dark crowns and varied turbans. The lambent kindle was from the torches’ fires which were still burning that were hung from the pillars. “Gai-Dalit!” Ditiori’s beast blew a powerful sniff out. It sprang to the clump gathered before the altar. Their eyes followed the beast as it circled them. The manlike quadruped tottered. Its breath was stealthy but tense and loud while they held theirs in terror, searching on their terrified faces. &nb
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 14: So Tranquil in the Witch's Garden!
Thud! Thud! Ben pounded a hammer to the concrete wall of his daughter’s bedroom. They had been decorating their house and had placed a crucifix above Maria’s wooden bookcase. “Maria is not home yet,” said Josefina to her husband, she had asked her daughter to get a young goat from her grandfather for mutton. “It’s still early in the afternoon, dear. She will be alright— the hillside is always quiet. Yup— it’s going to be a quiet afternoon, no—” said Ben and he continued to hammer and affixed the wooden cross. Thud! Thud! It was also a quiet afternoon at the crag to the witch’s garden. “Help me gather vegetables, Siegfried! Get your cupid’s shaving brush and the swollen fingers to pitch in and help.”
Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden Chapter 13: The Wicked May Plant the Fruit Plant
“Bring the intruder on the higher floor to the hearth of Helia’s domicile.” Four detached petrified limbs of five red bulging fingers scattered and did as they had been ordered by the gloomy voice. They carried the heavy girl on their stumps like a flat vessel. Scuttle! Scuttle! Fast! Silently, they scuttled fast to the staircase through a trapdoor that opened outwards when unlatched beside a wicker bed in their mistress’s kitchen. “Leave the girl in the cot and tie her animal to the bedpost." The demon goat-head said to any of the petrified limbs with bulging fingers, they all look the same, and it then closed the trapdoor by yanking a thick, old twine over its wall. "Let’s wait for the Mistress to come home. No one is to leave outside her realm.”
