A great sage sits alone by a campfire. As he thinks of a way to pass time, he stares into the fire, imagining shapes in the flames. From behind the flames, he begins to see an image of a young girl. Someone appeared from behind the trees, and stood before the sage, as he realized the shape was of a person approaching.
"Oh, are you lost young one?" - the girl smiled. "Well, would you like to join an old man for a chat?"
The girl nodded, and sat beside him.
"You see, I enjoy staring at the flames, for they form shapes that reflect our deepest unconscious thoughts." - the sage said.
"That's not right!" - a voice shouted from afar. The sound of rustling and cracking twigs could be heard as someone approached. From behind the trees appeared an old, dirty man, whose black beard reached the knees, and whose nails curled in loops. His voice crippled by age, he continued. "Fire does not show our deepest thoughts, but rather our suppressed feelings!"
The sage rubbed his chin in thought, as he stretched out his other hand, inviting the old man to join them. The old man accepted, sitting beside the little girl, as he went on. "We musn't supress our feelings, lest they supress us when we are most vulnerable!"
"Please excuse me." - another voice was heard as a woman approached. A scholar, camping nearby. "I was passing and couldn't help but hear your conversation, and I must add that fire by itself does none of those things. Anything can be used to trigger the imagination, like silhouettes in darkness, our reflection in a pond, etc. It's all our imagination just trying to make sense of the senseless."
The two men rubbed their chin in thought, and invited the scholar woman to join them.
"What about you, little girl? What do you think?" - the sage asked her.
The girl smiled.
Submitted June 16, 2019 at 04:53AM by Tatakai_ http://bit.ly/31CtbhN
No comments:
Post a Comment