Something odd this way……
He was a trained puppeteer. Learned his trade from his father who had learned it from his. He made his puppets himself, spending so much time on each and every detail. He started to become famous and people now knew his name. They would flock to see his show whenever he was performing. It was a moment of fierce pride for him. His father and forefathers would be proud of his success.
Then he lost it all and his life too when that great storm took the whole village and made a wreck of it. The wooden houses of his small village were no match for the twister that blew and swept away most of the dwellings. A few people survived the powerful storm.
From that day the visitors to the beach near the village notice this strange phenomenon. A few wooden sticks attached with thread, would be hanging in the mid-air, without any support and then they would start to perform a dance, choreographed beautifully. At first it frightened people but when they realized that it was harmless , they would flock there every evening to enjoy the “stick dance” as it was daubed.
The puppeteer lived in spirit.
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