The walls towered above him – a man who had dedicated his life to God. His footsteps echoed along the stone path as he walked towards his duty, basket in hand. He had been against walking these pathways, against walking where others walked without piety. His desire was to stay within the walls of the monastery, toiling peacefully with others who desired the same. That was the life he had wanted, and expected, when he had joined the brotherhood of monks. And yet now he was expected to do otherwise.
How hard it was not to rail against the authority that had sent him out into this world to walk these silent and narrow streets. He had fought hard to suppress the “I”, to suppress his own wishes and desires. He had needed a reminder that ultimately he had promised to do God’s work – and that at times God’s work required him to deal with the other members of God’s creation.
He passed crumbling walls and walls damp with mould and water marks. He turned the corner and approached his destination. He heard the sound of the revellers, and the temptations that waited within the stone walls. He climbed slowly up the steps, whispering a prayer to God to protect him from the men and women who would attempt to lead him astray. He was here to help heal the governor. He would complete his duty and then return to the sanctity of the monastery.
© Colline Kook-Chun, 2014
(This piece of writing was inspired by Paula’s b&w photo that she allowed me to post with my writing. Join her, and others, for her Thursday’s Special Challenge)