Excerpts (from The Fourth Treasure)
Hanako reached
down to the stack of the sensei's drawings and took the top one. She
traced the drawing, her finger following the sinewy path, until she
thought she understood. Until the brushstroke had meaning. She wrote
her interpretation then began to trace the next drawing.
The feelings
came furiously, without pause, piling on top of one another. The strongest
was an enormous wall of time that had to be scaled. The others, smaller,
were like shards of pottery to be put together. There were shards of
happiness, moments of comfort, of sensual pleasures, of ecstasy. And
there were shards of pain, longer and deeper, more dangerous, than ones
of happiness. Yet they too had to be part of the whole.
In the sensei's
mind there was a flash flood of knowing, a firestorm of awareness, a
billion synapses exploding into a nova of cognizance. So much to resolve,
nearly no time left.
But what
was there to be resolved? The light couldn't reach that far. It only
illuminated the possibility of a destination. Whatever that was to be.
The brief
light faded to black.
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