Category: Really Short Stories

the sun rose upon the shimmering fringe of a wanting image, faintly revealed by dawns first light. Patiently waiting instruction. It was the first time, time was not present from the start — silently he stood. Without notice, a gentle hand appeared upon the young wolf’s shoulder. With calm assertion the old patriach proceeded to speak; I have no lessons for you today. there is nothing further to teach. You are complete, said the old man — I need only persuade you! Persuade me, what do I miss? The young wolf replied. To reclaim what was never taken unfolds itself directly, said the elder. And what is it that I fail to comprehend, persisted the sturdy young statesman. The old noble stepped closer, aligned his gaze; with an affirming tone, said to the young heir, That you are the one true king! 

…years passed, his words last but the old alpha had faded. On the field of battle he stood alone, no one left to guard the throne, amidst the shrieking cry of festering countrymen. With nowhere to turn, he retreated to learn from the only place that remained. Seeking not refuge but resolve, in a world unified by every divide, a cosmos without schism. In the internal, nocturnal, eternal, stillness he calmly stood in the den of conception, where everything dwells; even nothing. At the point of knowing stepped he forward from himself – shedding all thought, as the viper sheds its ill fitted skin, all things fled as they came into focus and only one  remained – and he was that!

by K. Osei

I remember my mother saying to me as a small child, “let’s go for a ride.” I was never sure exactly why, whenever I asked, “where we were going,” her response was always the same, “we’re just riding.” There was never any particular destination or route but it was always very scenic, away from the city, somewhere green, where nature was unobstructed. I wasn’t sure if she had something on her mind or just wanted to relax, she never said. She didn’t play the radio and words were seldom exchanged. We drove along quietly, taking in all the shapes and colors of nature. For me, It was both tranquil and euphoric. I have no idea how long these trips lasted, time was irrelevant, at least to me—I felt free, immersed in the landscape as we cruised along the country roads. Whatever my thoughts were prior to our journey, they were vanished upon returning home. For the rest of that day I would experience  a pleasant calmness. I’ve continued this ritual over the years with my own children when they were young, albeit, it was usually to help them fall asleep so I could study. Nevertheless, this practice has helped me to value the journey of life as much as the destination—thanks mom! I’m still, “just riding.”

by K. Osei

The two had been working together for nearly 10 years now. The old man spoke to the young apprentice with a firm urgency in his voice, “skim-it!” The young lad, without a moment’s hesitation, hurried to the woodshop with plank in hand. Nervously returning, handed the old master carver the piece of wood, attentively listening, observing every moan and grimace on the old man’s face as he adjusted the board into position — “ahhh, perfect!” Sighed the gray bearded elder. The corners of his mouth gently raised, revealing the faintes smile. “How did you know,” said the old man, “I just measured a blade’s width,” the youth replied. With that the old man reached down, his cracked leathery hands mirroring the worn dark brown tool belt around his waist. Releasing the buckle, he placed it around the youthful waist of the young master – turned and slowly walked away. The young man stood silently, with water glazed eyes he watched his father’s silhouette fade, completely confident in his training and the legacy that hung about his waist.

by K. Osei