Bugs, Leaves and Wind

An empty town is replaced by dolls that mark the spirits of those that have passed.

‘Somewhere in the mountains to the East, there is a town of no people,’ said the first monk.

‘A town of no people? How can that be?’

‘There used to be people there, long, long ago, but they kept dying.’

‘Why did they die?’ the second monk asked.

‘Nobody knew why. One day there would be a person, and the next day, there wouldn’t be. The more these mysterious deaths kept happening, the emptier the town became. There used to be people walking up and down the main thoroughfare, or running through the forest, or jumping along the rooftops, but eventually the only things that moved through the town or ran through the forest or jumped along the rooftops were bugs, leaves, and wind.’

‘Bugs…leaves…and wind,’ the second monk said slowly.

‘So then, the remaining townspeople thought they should do something to liven up the town, to make it look like it used to. Eventually they came upon the idea of replacing the people. Not by making more babies; most of the townspeople were too old for that, anyway. The town was known for its doll-making, so they thought they could put their skills to use in order to rehabilitate the town. What they decided to do was to make dolls that were replicas of the people who died. They created a doll for each person that had died, and placed them around the town, in a place where that person had often been seen. Some of the dolls would be standing on the bridge, watching the stream gushing forth underneath them, some of them would be on the rooftops, some of them would be up in the trees, and some would be standing here and there around the town. Of course, the dolls were a lot smaller than the real people, but it was still better than the town being empty.’

‘That’s…’ the second monk didn’t know what to say.

‘It doesn’t end there. The remaining townspeople had become so attached to making dolls out of the people who died that, during times when nobody was dying and they had nothing to do, if they happened to see a bug die, or a leaf dry up and go brown, they would make dolls of the bugs and the leaves. They would then scatter the bug and leaf dolls throughout the town, so that it was as though nothing ever died.’

The second monk sat there like a statue in awe of what he was being told.

‘Of course, eventually everyone died, but before the very last people did, they made sure to make dolls of themselves. When it came time for them to die, they lay with their dolls in their hands, so that when they eventually perished, the doll would be left in the place where they died, and the dolls would take up where they left off. Now there is nothing in the town but dolls representing the things that once were.’

‘What about the wind?’ asked the second monk.

‘The wind?’

‘What did they do when the wind died? Did they make a doll of the wind?’

The first monk looked to the East as he tried to picture what a doll of the wind would look like, but before he could think of an answer, a wind doll came out of nowhere and hit him plum in the face.

Reviews

[Chaz Hemsworth]

I really like it. The whole story makes me think of how we all try to leave a legacy in some way, to live forever. Of course, the ending was fantastic. At first though it made the story seem a lot less serious, but it also makes me think the moral is to not worry about leaving behind some memorable legacy but to be happy.

[groisht]

Thanks for reading and for the insight!

[Mia C.]

I loved reading this, the ending made me laugh so hard! You're a very unique writer, I really enjoy your work. :))

[groisht]

Thank you very much, it's nice to hear kind feedback out here in the loneliness of cyberspace!

[Mia C.]

Haha, I concur. You're very welcome!