The meteor hurtled silently through the mute cosmos. Till it fell and shattered over the granite rock of a planet. Hunched men ran afar, afraid, adoring the goddess, The woman, in late pregnancy, that lay supine on the altar. Steadily, many moved towards the gaping hole. All around metallic shards lay around. Someone grabbed a pointed double-edged weapon. It served well to dig and carve and increased its hole. Many joined and even lit torches from the fire of the temple. The men discussed what best to do, considering their limitations. They decided on a three-tier structure, explicitly decorated. But full of tricks in honor of the pregnant goddess. Years passed and then centuries. Dust covered the rocks, Modern times came and houses were built everywhere. Till a man realized a large hole filled with water. Slowly the hole became large and old bones appeared. Archeologists arrived. Years passed until the soil was removed. All was careful not to scrape the walls and a hole was emptied. The lowest part had strange stairs, some straight, some uneven. It was meant as a trap for thieves who went down for riches and food. On one side was a burial place. And on the wall was depicted A tree of immortality. No one knew what paint they used. And opposite was the mystery of all. A mystery no one can solve. Speak into the hole. Ask a question. From behind a curtain, you’ll get a reply. Yet here’s the mystery of the hole. Any man could speak into a hole. The sound would be well heard and full of strange echo. But no woman could have its voice be heard in that dark adjacent room. A riddle? A theory? An assumption? No solution for a female voice! Only male. Placed 5
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