An old man sat in the dark. He carried within himself a spark. He’d hidden it away for years and years. People would come to him and ask: “Why do you live in the dark?” He just smiled. Some say it was his need to be secretive. Others that he was a bad man who loved the darkness. Still others that he was hiding treasures from the world. He knew better. Nothing could be hidden in the dark. Nothing. He knew that it was only in the dark that one could truly see. Seeing was an art. It was the art of darkness, the art that allowed that which is unseen its chance to appear in the mind within the mind. Only here in the dark could the mind be relieved of its sad burden and mystery. Only here could the spark light up the true darkness of the mind.
An old man felt the dark within the dark light up, and he was happy.
– Steven Craig Hickman ©2015 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.