Archive for the ‘Series’ Category
The Diplomat Teaches Oneness
Wednesday, August 6th, 2008
The Diplomat and I sat with some thieves in their hot, stuffy cave. They watched us, unable to believe that we were who we said we were: the Gaia diplomat and his novice, traveling alone, and carrying or wearing all that we owned—clothes and begging bowls. Their eyes said, “how can you make us rich?”
We sat there while they tried to take our measure. At least there was a cat. That’s another good animal from Gaia. It let me scratch its ears, having already taken my measure.
I hadn’t wanted to go with the thieves, when there was still time to choose. The Diplomat had said, “they are part of us, we are part of them, we are all one with everything else,” adding, “whether we like it or not.”
Sometimes I thought the Diplomat was a naïve idiot.
“Rathand will take you some place while we talk it over,” said somebody who thought he was the Chief Thief.
So we sat outside in the cold, blessed air. Rathand let us sit against a big tree. He sat down facing us, his sword across his lap.
In the middle of asking Rathand about his family, the Diplomat paused as though he were listening. Then he stood up.
“We will be going now,” he said. “Though I would have liked to hear about your mother. Please don’t use your sword, it would be bad for you.”
Rathand looked down at his blade in surprise, then lowered it.
“You could come with us,” offered the Diplomat.
Rathand stayed, however, when we walked straight into the brush.
“I hope that boy is all right,” said the Diplomat when the shouting started far off, “but he had to make up his own mind. They were going to kill us, you see. Hang our bodies by the road to frighten people.”
I stared at him.
“I have had practice not fearing death,” he went on. “But I’m busy, and besides, you are here. So I thought we should leave.”
“How did you know what they were going to do?”
He looked at me, blinked, and grinned. “Haven’t you been listening? We are one with all creatures. When you know that, it is easy to hear what you are thinking in your other heads.”
Many footsteps later, though, he admitted he had preferred listening as the cat.
An Abruptness of Gulls
Thursday, July 24th, 2008
The rain-slicked cobblestones.
The pleasure girl, and what she saw.
The pallid man and his burden.
The unwelcome attentions of hired guns.
A dock, and what was moored there.
A cabin, and what was hurled there.
A father and his grief.
The bloodhound and a soiled dress.
The alley’s end.
And what was found there.
An abruptness of gulls.
The sameness of days.
A rocking of swells.
An eternity in the dark cabin.
A dockside tavern and a looseness of tongues.
An open palm and the readiness of coin.
A ship, most excellent and speedy.
A pursuit and the hope of rescue.
A port, the shining sand, a singing in the trees.
The tendrils that writhe.
Calls that echo and reply.
The narrow and winding path.
A bicep gripped by a tall man’s hand.
An ancient rune-carven stone.
An intonation of Words.
A flowering of crimson.
The opening of a Door.
The silence of leaves underfoot.
An imposition of tendrils.
The virtues of tempered steel.
The silence in a clearing.
Some consequences of tardiness.
A buzzing of flies.
The stickiness of that which remains.
A gathering interest of crows.
The end
For Fritz Leiber