Om The Seven Strokes of the gods
On this very sunny day, Awara-Awara, the priest of Ajana deity and the oldest man in the village of Eziama-Aruke, was seen trudging laboriously along the pebbled path leading to the Orie market square. His hands and legs were unsteady and shaking as reeds in the wind. This rickety bearing of his frame loudly announced the passage of decades. As he moved, he continued to discuss with some unseen companions. Now and again, he gesticulated, laughed or nodded in agreement with the views of his unseen entourage. With his right hand, he clutched his ancient staff - with this, he supported his ancient body. And with his left hand, he clutched a lighted ederi torch, while he advanced his 'near ancestral' steps as unsurely as one seeking his way on a pitch dark night.
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