Blog Entry

Pieces of a Broken Mirror — Piece 2

Preface

This second piece really took me a great deal to finish. I think it has been as a draft for over six months, and it is probably the longest entry on this blog as well. Anyway, I think it turned out okay, I hope you enjoy this one as much as the first piece.

Main Text

Confined in the room for almost 6 hours, monk sits on top of the tiny desk right underneath the window. Now he is able to look out through the window. The window is wide open. Cool breeze blows softly and creeps into his cloth, a bit cold but refreshing. The night of La Paz is dark and clear, stars gleam like diamonds and the moon is like gigantic brownish yellow lantern, but over the centuries many foolish moths flew in it and died in it, and today we see a face of many speckles. To monk, the night always possess some magical power. It makes you calm, cool, and contemplate the mysteries that creep in the dark corners of one’s memory.

Who could ever forget the stories that dwells in our childhood, stories that take a child to a land of peace, love and innocent fantasies?

It was a summer night, the heat stayed after nightfall. Families came out of house and took their spots in the empty soccer field. They brought chairs and small tables, tea and watermelon, sunflower seeds and salted peanuts and of course their children. Everyone knows everyone, so it was an easy and pleasant way to spend the long sultry summer night, and enjoy the outdoor breeze to cool down their body temperature. Husbands gathered together, they talked about politics and nation’s economy; wives formed groups, they exchanged good market deals and cooking tips.

But none of these mattered to children. They run freely on the field, they laughed and giggled, everything was there to explore, to play and to entertain their curiosity. When they are finally exhausted their energy, they simply lay on the field side by side, wrapped their little bodies in the smell of grass and summer night breeze. Monk was one of them, happy and innocent. That night he stared the night sky for a long time, fascinated by all those bright stars, and in his little mind he was recalling the romantic story that his mom once told him:

In the ancient time, God wanted to improve humans’ life, so he kindly sent two fairies to earth to enlighten people. One fairy was the cowherd boy, who taught men how to use cow for farming. Another fairy was the weaving girl, who taught women how to make clothes. They were sent to earth separately, and both accomplished their duty faithfully. God was pleased. But one day they met each other, and instantly they fell in love. In love, they completely forgot their duties. The cowherd boy did not look after the cows any more, and the weaving girl did not make clothes any more. God was mad and furious, so to punish them he separated the lovers by the Milky Way. They could only be allowed to see each other once a year. Birds were moved by their love story; so on that day the birds would form a bridge across the Milky Way for the lover to meet each other.

It was stories like this that gave Monk the wing of imagination. In those nights that he lay on the grass, and stared at stars, he traveled farther than those children around him, to a place where everything in the world found their harmonic tone. Now, the stars still shine in Bolivian sky, but without romantic stories, they only bring a flood of nostalgic reminiscence.

Readers' Comments

2 responses from the opinionated mass...

Leave a Comment

Be respectful and courteous to each other, be relevant with your comment. Offensive comments will be removed!

Allowed XHTML Tags: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>