A flash fantasy fiction by *Osakpamwan Osadolor*

The year has come for the reaping, according to set up rules and laws laid down, the last child of a family is picked or reaped. It is a bizarre tradition to have a sulking infant taken from its mother feeding breasts and made to survive an elemental test. It is something that boggles the mind to expect a child who can't differentiate between a peculiar smell and another, to be able to tell between the fiery force of fire, the bone wracking force of the earth, the air stealing of the gushing wind and the nerve numbing stream of the water. As it may seem weird there is nothing more shocking than seeing the picked child family rejoice about their child been picked, knowing that their chance of survival is precariously slim.

But one wonder if it is weird knowing that the most cherished dish of these people is the baked waste passed of the Abulin fly, which if not visiting the chamber pot a day is a pouch count of Nidjaelin silvers which is so cheap that a thousand is always counted. Or the fact that to gain adulthood, the rite of passing is bedding the pulling mules which at its cleanest stage still smell like the latrine infested forest of Ajorita.

So to me these people are not so surprising.

Annexed from
The outside canals
Of the worlds
Cc: Aderinto jacquidrom