‘What’s Walancha?’ Asked the English student. ‘What do you mean by what’s Walancha?’ ‘ Well, this prompt setter M, has given a cue for a prompt including the word Walancha. ‘The Window to Walancha.’ Mr Sampson wiped his forehead, actually his whole head was a shiny dome, since his wife had shaved all his hair off during a dream. ‘Walancha,’ he mused, you say there’s a window involved?’ I can’t say I’ve come across this word. It sounds just like a place I once knew in the Himalayas. Tibetan monks used a high resolution mirror to reflect the sun into the eyes of their initiates. Thus inducing a state of mind known as Walancha.’ ‘Oh!’ Exclaimed the student ‘Walancha is an altered state of consciousness that can only be reached by getting dazzled.’ ‘Exactly!’ Sampson replied.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge. The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.
This week’s photo prompt is supplied by Dawn M. Miller
IN A MONASTERY GARDEN
by John Yeo
The gazebo stood in a monastery garden. The wooden structure was aged and set in a copse. The trees in early winter were leafless and there was a thin coating of early snow on the roof. Silence reigned as the monks were at prayer. A man appeared from the north side of the gazebo carrying an oblong case marked with the name Brother George in capital letters. Then with a cheerful greeting two other men approached and climbed into the gazebo from the east and the west sides, Brothers John and Paul arrived together. Another man arrived from the South side and began to set up an impressive set of drums. “Hi Friar Ringo!” Was the cry from the others and the quartet was complete. The hallowed silence was broken irreparably as the music drew many young people. The monks were stunned, although one or two were observed swaying to the loud musical beat. Tents sprang up everywhere as an illegal rave began. A collection of money from the fans was donated to the monastery.
Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved This is in response to a challenge hosted by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. If you would like to participate in this challenge or need more information, please click the following link:
Photo prompt supplied by The Reclining Gentleman on Word Press
by John Yeo
Here we lived on this side of the lake. Even the ducks seemed to know, and would not come near. The condition we suffered caused physical disfigurement and disability. The monks who looked after Mary and I kept their distance. They insisted we pray and immerse ourselves in the water many times during the day and night to wash away our sins. Mary and I met here in the leprosarium and fell in love. Together we watched the sun rise and set over the lake many times. Our spirits return here often to immerse ourselves in memories of the past.