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The people stretch out before me for miles A lot of people wanted to see a coronation They don’t come around often, and I’m a wild card Everyone wants to be there in case I fail epically It’s a sad but true thought

“Are you ready, reina?”

I throw a smile over my shoulder and nod The court is there for protection if necessary andmyself to a position We’re uncertain how that will react to the bone already in place

My dress is blue, the color of water The strapless dress is an o from a deep blue to teal A white pattern mimics sea foam and waves My hair is adorned with a crown of blue orchids

Mé at the end of the aisle in front of an altar She gives the nod, and I slowlythe forest floor Flowers blooe to water and spring The coronation walk is about proving your worth I add a hint of salt-water scent and the feel of sea spray It co me with each step

I flow froh the area, blowing away the scent of the sea and the mist Warmth encompasses the crowd The s up five to six feet tall and my blue dress turns a deep yellow Lace appliqué flowers covermy back bare The mermaid-style skirt flows out aroundsh the te us for the transfer

I use it as my fuel and push old, and orange leaves that form on the trees and rains down on the crowd Their whispers and murmurs row, big, fat, and round The scent of pue to earth with an ereen dress with a trumpet skirt, bell sleeves of sheer material, and a corset top that accentuates my curves Leaves and vines wind their way across the boat neck and sides by my hips A crown of autumn leaves circles my hair

A crack of thunder shakes the space Tiny snowflakes begin to rain down, growing in intensity and size until the entire pathway and forest have been turned into a winter wonderland My dress erupts in a violent display of flaown has a truainst the snowy backdrop I reach inside for an offering worthy of e to head reen tendrils of power flow fro area I reach the end of the aisle and kneel before Mémé

“We ask the ancestors to guide, keep, and bless this new matriarch as she takes the position of e who have coust of air asp I’es of women of all shades, sizes, and time-periods

“The spirits show their approval,” Méhter, and receive what is rightfully yours”

I stand, and we join hands She stares into in to transfer She squeezes my hand, and I set my

feet, supporting her Soft white light washes over us, and it’s done

“You have all witnessed it So mote it be,” Mémé whispers

“So mote it be,” the crowd choruses Méathered around the altar I take the head of the space

“To our ancestors who came before us,” I lift the bottle of expensive wine and pour it onto the earth, “we thank you” I feel a new kinship with the wo theue concept