Out in the far mountains at the borders of the great kingdom of Mawu, there lived a hermit. His friends and family tried to bring him back to the city of kings, where he would have wine for drink, fine silks for clothing, a palace for shelter, and beautiful women for company. He sent them away, for in the mountains, he had all he needed.

For drink, he had the rain. For clothing, he had old skins and furs. For shelter, he had the leaves of the trees and the stones of the mountain.

And for company, he had the grasshoppers.

They gathered about him as he meditated and sat upon his windowsill by night.  For hours he whispered to them, telling them the things only he knew.

When he died, alone upon the mountainside, the grasshoppers stood vigil over his body and made their music long into the night.

Word Count: 150

This is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Mark for providing the prompt photo!

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