Raman was not afraid anymore. He stood at the dusky graveyard and called out to the pontianak to come to collect her gift. Even though how much he yelled, there was no reply from the pontianak.
Raman was slightly drunk and he was getting impatient. He kicked the wooden pole and shouted for the pontianak to come out. Earlier, Raman was happy and jubilant that the number the pontianak had given him, had come out to be the first prize, and he had returned to the kubur with the gifts for her. He just wanted to give her the gifts and get on with his life.
It was only a week ago he had slowly walked up to the grave and plucked out a ten-inch long rusty iron nail out of the almost rotten wooden pole that marked the grave. He then took out a needle into the trunk of a banana tree and stretched the string. At the end of the string he had a paper cup. He took the paper cup. He listened and heard a murmur someone in pain. He took the paper cup and recited a few Arabic verses.
Within seconds the ground shuddered and trembled and the earth split open……………
What will happen next? The story of the gift of the pontianak to be continued……………..
If you would like to give your own ending, email me!!! It could get published here!!!
| Boogie Time.....© 1997, Samuel Lai / SLSS Productions Inc. |
