Secrets of the Forest

Astral Ninja scratches his faithful slave Pedro behind the ears, a move his feline companion both hates for its’ demeaning qualities and adores for its’ sensation. With lack of a better comment, Pedro removes a clove cigarette and brings it to life.

Astral Ninja sets down and looks over all that is before him. Peace like a river becomes him. Grace from the great canvas of the world sings in stories before him. Possibilities within dreams; dreams inside of their possibilities twine together in thick hair pulled high off the shoulder with a rubber band. He closes his eyes to take it back in, then removes pen and parchment from his satchel and writes.

The letter is, he knows, a foolish exercise. It is written to extend and savor the delicious, amborsial acts of words and emotions that spiral through the abyss of his mind, placing them all into the permanence of ink. This is the creation of something visual to satisfy another one of his senses; a point to concentrate on, to channel, to communicate with. These words scrawled on paper feel more vulnerable, more true, more like a gift he could leave for others to discover. A little bit of soul dust from me to you.

Pedro, beside him, removes another black cigarette and fires it. Astral Ninja looks for inspiration, setting his eyes on the cliff in the distance that looks like a lower toothed smile. He removes another sheet of paper and begins to write the words again, this time in a more legible, careful caress. Words pour off the paper but he feels like he could say more. That by saying something more this will enable all the twisted emotions to make sense or come true.

He agonizes over the words again, copying over the letters on the page, emboldening them until the grip of the pen indents itself onto his hand. Sloppy, ink tears kiss the page and are wiped into background as he continues.

Then he rests. The madness that both calms and en-flames him churns on, coping with other ways to say it all over again. Pedro stamps out the clove but the ember still blazes.

“The eye on the prize.” Astral Ninja says then, for no good reason.