For this weeks Flash Friday we had only 150 words to write about the following prompt:
Monk (Thailand). Photo courtesy of Shuco.
This is it, the last resort. I’ve tried everything else, regular therapy, hypnotherapy, church confessions, drugs , alcohol, the lot. I’ve yet to find anything to slay the demons, to still the churning dark waters inside me.
The old man smiles a toothless grin, “Put on these robes, they are to remind you that appearance is not important.”
They are itchy in all the wrong places. I stare longingly at my designer suit as it is carefully folded away. A stiff breeze catches my new outfit and whistles through it. I feel exposed, vulnerable. I don’t like it, I’m used to feeling powerful. He points to a grouping of trees, “You must stand still like a tree, calm your mind until it is as quiet as the breeze.”
I try what he asks. I close my eyes but see only their faces. There is no peace from what I have done, my breeze is a tornado.