The Amulet

Ron Koppelberger

The Amulet

She wore it in stubborn perfect poise; silver and ruby meticulous, the amulet was in the shape of a cross. Smooth and eternal in it’s wisdom, it protected Phoenix Scarlet from the suppositions of death. A desire in glaring bloodstone jewels and sanctity, she fingered the cross and sighed in reverie. The requited exclamation of life, Phoenix gripped the amulet as death made it’s
case to her impressive cause. “Forward Phoenix, it’s been over two hundred years, aren’t you curious to move forward?” death said flirtatiously.
“Nay,” she replied, “ my place is in life.” the sound of wild gypsy rhythms filled the air, violins in furious fray, like crocodilian enticers to doom.
“ But what of your woodland greens and your family, they all await you Phoenix.” death coaxed.
“No sir, I prefer to be with the living.” Death sighed and said,
“You’ll change your mind eventually, for the purpose of life is to transcend the breech.” death explained.
“Even so, I refuse you.” she said curtly, “Now be gone.”
Death left and Phoenix prayed to the heavens with clear conscience. Phoenix vowed vigilance and renewed her covenant with the angels as the amulet renewed her and it’s purpose.