Monday, November 28, 2011

The Laughing Buddha

The following story was inspired by the image from Day 20 of the G+ Flash Fiction Project event organized by Becky Raymond, which challenges writers to write a short piece of fiction each day during November 2011, based on a stimulus photograph or image.
[img src: Amy Bewersdorf]
The sign read, "Rub my tummy three times and I will grant three wishes." I thought, what the heck, and did as the sign bade.

Whilst stroking the cold belly of the little Buddha, I spoke my first wish rather quickly and off the cuff. Suddenly, a car swerved too fast down the road and rolled over, spilling blood and bills out the broken windows.

"Holy shit!" I cried out, and automatically wished the people in the car to be alive, safe and sound. And just as suddenly, one door creaked open and a guy and gal crawled out, stood up and shook the glass off themselves. Seeing me staring, with mouth agape, they grabbed the bag of cash and ran off down the road, disappearing into the trees.

I turned to look down at the little stone statue I had stubbed my toe on just a few moments earlier whilst out for my morning stroll.

"Damnit!" I muttered, chastising myself for being so hasty. Then I clamped my hands over my mouth. Not a wish, I wished. That wasn't a wish. I quickly sat on the grass and assumed the lotus position. I closed my eyes, slowed my breathing and tried to calm my mind, but to no avail.

I realized that I had just wished my last wish, and angrily shoved the little Buddha over on its side. My anger startled me, as I’m sure it would have startled my Yoga instructor. I closed my eyes and returned to focus on my breathing.

My mind finally stilled. My fear dissipated. I didn't notice the warmth of the sun rising, nor the cool of the moon setting. I continued to slowly breathe in, breathe out.

I didn't move when blades of grass rustled against my knees in the breeze, nor when raindrops fell upon my head. I just continued to slowly breathe in, breathe out.

I didn’t brush at the butterflies who alighted on my nose, nor become wary of the bees suckling the flowers growing at my feet. I just continued to slowly breathe in, breathe out.

I had no notion that time passed, until one day someone stubbed their toe and then rubbed my tummy three times.



<word count: 370>

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I liked this story. Light and fun and I wouldn't mind owning that Budha either.

Kerry