helen
Panic Sex Lady
The Ethos of Nosri
In the beginning, Nosri created the world and everything in it.
The elder hobbled carefully through the crowd until he reached the clear ground before the Rock. There were many new young ones, he noted. The singing would be strong. He turned to face them then, and though he was very old, he stood straight and tall. This would be his last Recounting, he was sure of it. He took a deep breath and began the Song of Nosri.
Nosri was lonely he began. The crowd echoed his words in harmonies, forming mournful chords, weeping for the loneliness of Nosri in song.
Thus he led them. He sang of the creation of the world and everything in it. The crowd reflected his words with rising volume. He sang of the Friendship of Nosri, and the crowd sang at a faster tempo. He sang of the Absence of Nosri. The crowd dropped into whispered chanting. He raised his hands to the sky, silencing them all in the same heartbeat.
In a bitter drone, he reminded them of the Betrayers of Nosri. The crowd remained silent and still.
He slowly knelt on the hard ground before the Rock. The crowd knelt where they stood.
From his knees, hands still raised to the sky, he wailed the Return of Nosri. The crowd moaned and began to sway in their kneeling ranks. One by one the members of the crowd covered their eyes with their hands. Nosri! Nosri!
Slowly, the elder stood up. Stooped now, he looked tired and very old. With tearful eyes and breaking voice, he recounted the Curse of Nosri. Bowing their heads to the ground, the crowd wept with him. The Curse of Nosri! Nosri save us!
They remained in this state for hours. The watching humans grew bored and crept from their hiding places back to their quarters.
"I still don't know what they get out it," grumbled Patterson. He was shushed by the others.
In the beginning, Nosri created the world and everything in it.
The elder hobbled carefully through the crowd until he reached the clear ground before the Rock. There were many new young ones, he noted. The singing would be strong. He turned to face them then, and though he was very old, he stood straight and tall. This would be his last Recounting, he was sure of it. He took a deep breath and began the Song of Nosri.
Nosri was lonely he began. The crowd echoed his words in harmonies, forming mournful chords, weeping for the loneliness of Nosri in song.
Thus he led them. He sang of the creation of the world and everything in it. The crowd reflected his words with rising volume. He sang of the Friendship of Nosri, and the crowd sang at a faster tempo. He sang of the Absence of Nosri. The crowd dropped into whispered chanting. He raised his hands to the sky, silencing them all in the same heartbeat.
In a bitter drone, he reminded them of the Betrayers of Nosri. The crowd remained silent and still.
He slowly knelt on the hard ground before the Rock. The crowd knelt where they stood.
From his knees, hands still raised to the sky, he wailed the Return of Nosri. The crowd moaned and began to sway in their kneeling ranks. One by one the members of the crowd covered their eyes with their hands. Nosri! Nosri!
Slowly, the elder stood up. Stooped now, he looked tired and very old. With tearful eyes and breaking voice, he recounted the Curse of Nosri. Bowing their heads to the ground, the crowd wept with him. The Curse of Nosri! Nosri save us!
They remained in this state for hours. The watching humans grew bored and crept from their hiding places back to their quarters.
"I still don't know what they get out it," grumbled Patterson. He was shushed by the others.