Oteka's Journal

           Grief has come over me in every sensation. The thud of my father’s frail frame in the grave, no priest to bless him; this sent me cowering behind my hut, crying my apologies. I do not know much about big god, but did he need the priest’s blessing to get into heaven? The thought of him hearing my voice through flames and pitchforks sent even more tears to my eyes. Although perhaps the worst place he could be would be nowhere at all, the sound of my voice inaudible. This was the worst death. Since then, death has almost become normal. My siblings, my mother, and finally Adaa. Where do I go now?