The sun sat high in the sky. Just as it had done all day, every day since Serak had been born. Every day for countless generations before her. She felt a little tired so hung up her apron and waved goodbye to the girl she'd been working with. Opening the canvas flap to the Cafe Tent she wandered out into the main circle of central Song. She looked up at The Big Song, a gigantic white marble monolith. It's weathered spiral pattern was reflected by the vast sprawl of creamy coloured canvas tents and small bleached wooden buildings arranged in clumps along rough sweeping curves .
A pair of white cranes caught Serak's eye as they breezed by high above the quiet hustle and bustle of the market place. Serak stood transfixed by the bird's gentle travels as they drifted silently past The Big Song. A sparkle of light at the tip of the Song broke her concentration. Suddenly she was filled with an overwhelming urge to climb to to top of the Song and look out over the swirl of humanity gathered around it's base. She started to walk towards the monolith, the soft mossy ground squelched beneath her feet, puddles forming in a fading line of footprints behind her. As she walked a seed of a smile tickled her lips and flowered into a loud giggle. Her footpints became deeper and each plant of her heel made a splash as she began to run over the sodden ground. Now laughing uncontrollably she reached the base of the Big Song and leaned back to look up at the rough marble walls that rose above her. It took her a while to run round the base, searching for the hand and footholds that would give her a path to the top. Eventually she settled on a deep vein of wear that looked promising and she began her ascent. Laughing as she climbed, she gave no attention to the size of her task. The sheer joy of the climb fillling her limbs with a previously untapped reserves of strength and determination.
After a while her knuckles and toes were scraped, bruised and bleeding. The blood dripping down her arms in long rivulets and leaving red footprints to mark where she had passed. Almost to the top she stopped and rested in a small cove, just big enough to sit down and examine her wounds. Unbridled by vanity she began to unwind the wraps of the white linen sari she wore and began to rip the long white sheet into strips. She bound the strips tightly over her hands and feet and continued her climb. As she climbed the strips began to loosen and unfurl in the wind. By the time she reached the summit the wind whipped long streams of ribbon from her hands and feet. Flowing out behind her like a mass of giant red and white snakes.