Is it my nature?
The day was hot and the landscape severe. His travels had led him to many strange places. Some might consider it a curse, 'Doomed to wander along the borders of the after life'. Others might consider it a blessing, "A never ending adventure." He simply accepted it as the path his karma had forged. The rest was academic.
Currently the realm he was traveling through possessed a level of 'physicality'. It contained the illusion of substance and form, so consequentially he did as well. At times he reflected upon the prosaic irony of a ghost having flesh. Illusory flesh to be sure, but then how was that different from 'real' flesh in the greater scheme of things? Material reality was a fiction in it's own way after all.
The sound of rushing water broke his reverie as he climbed over the embankment of sharp stones. As he surmounted the steep incline, his eyes caught sight of a wide river before him. The sun was low in the sky now, it's reflection sparkling on the river's surface. Crossing the river at night would be complicated. There were things that prowled this place when the shroud of night fell; things that he would rather not face chest deep in water, no matter how ‘illusory’ it might be.
Setting himself to the task, he began to prepare by gathering his robes together.
"I beg your pardon traveler," came a voice from the rushes by the bank.
"I was wondering if you might help me cross this river?"
Looking closer, the monk saw a golden scorpion sunning itself on a rock.
"Ah I see.", answered the monk, his voice colored with wry amusement.
"I take it, you propose to sit upon my shoulder while I cross?"
"Why yes!" chimed the Scorpion brightly.
"Very well." sighed the monk. Then, quick as a cat, he scooped up the creature in a gourd and closed it shut.
Ignoring the Scorpion's protests, he proceeded to cross the river. Once upon the other side, he released his passenger upon a dry log.
"What was that for!?" demanded the Scorpion.
"My apologies my friend, but I too have been a Scorpion in my time."
Frustrated, the Scorpion left the monk in search of others who might help him cross back to the other side of the river. As the monk watched him go, he wondered if the world might have been better place if he had simply stepped upon the creature.
Currently the realm he was traveling through possessed a level of 'physicality'. It contained the illusion of substance and form, so consequentially he did as well. At times he reflected upon the prosaic irony of a ghost having flesh. Illusory flesh to be sure, but then how was that different from 'real' flesh in the greater scheme of things? Material reality was a fiction in it's own way after all.
The sound of rushing water broke his reverie as he climbed over the embankment of sharp stones. As he surmounted the steep incline, his eyes caught sight of a wide river before him. The sun was low in the sky now, it's reflection sparkling on the river's surface. Crossing the river at night would be complicated. There were things that prowled this place when the shroud of night fell; things that he would rather not face chest deep in water, no matter how ‘illusory’ it might be.
Setting himself to the task, he began to prepare by gathering his robes together.
"I beg your pardon traveler," came a voice from the rushes by the bank.
"I was wondering if you might help me cross this river?"
Looking closer, the monk saw a golden scorpion sunning itself on a rock.
"Ah I see.", answered the monk, his voice colored with wry amusement.
"I take it, you propose to sit upon my shoulder while I cross?"
"Why yes!" chimed the Scorpion brightly.
"Very well." sighed the monk. Then, quick as a cat, he scooped up the creature in a gourd and closed it shut.
Ignoring the Scorpion's protests, he proceeded to cross the river. Once upon the other side, he released his passenger upon a dry log.
"What was that for!?" demanded the Scorpion.
"My apologies my friend, but I too have been a Scorpion in my time."
Frustrated, the Scorpion left the monk in search of others who might help him cross back to the other side of the river. As the monk watched him go, he wondered if the world might have been better place if he had simply stepped upon the creature.