The Lotus Reader

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Posted September 20, 2006

Fiction

The Ribbon In the Sky

by I. S. Eskin

I've always been looking for happiness and peace- moreso, for mystery and impossibility turned real. What I mean to express, is I've been devoutly searching for a physical placed of my imagination that could somehow plunged into existence. The current world just doesn't really suit me. It surprises me, the manner in which so many live their lives, appearing to be happy. They claim their lives are as they please, or they have the potential to make them so. I try to believe, and I tell myself that I am content. But whatever anyone says, whatever I say, I want another.

This one is filled with a manner of horrible things: Education that kills learning, middle ages woman snickering at low jabbed political jokes, comics yelling at the politically correct who respond by yelling back at the comics, anorexic teen using Ramadan as an excuse to fast away excess muscle. For all its rationalism, this world is far too illogical to be satisfying. It is the rules that turn us crazy, or at least our knowledge of their existence. Too many rules, created or science, turn us all crazy. My need to escape was not only an escape, but a run towards sanity.

My dreams reflected this desire to find another, better world. Every dream was one part in the sequence that had one theme, and one goal: to find and prove a fallacy in the rules, an impossibility. To find fantasy, to find an element of magic. If I succeeded, it meant that the world I hoped for was out there, somewhere. And I succeeded- every time. I won the prize of fantasy that was snatched away every time I awoke to my cruel, dark covers and the morning light or early morning darkness.

So I awoke for years before it- the fantasy- stayed. It was one night. My younger sister and I were both in our nightgowns. We had readied for bed and sat on the floor. The window was open, and a deep, blue lights was luminescently vibrating behind it, a few stars disrupting the empty pattern of the night sky. I ruffled my silky white nightgown thoughtfully and stole a glance through the window. It was then that I saw the much welcomed surprise I had been waiting for all my life. Unwilling to believe at first- I was very scientifically minded, after all- I jumped up and raced toward the window to get a better look, my sister following in curious anticipation. There, seated on the roof below our window, was a beast of unrecognizable shape and size.

It most resembled a dragon. A huge form leading flawlessly down to a skinny, snakelike tail was covered in dry and shiny scales. His head was more complicated than that of an ordinary lizard, with heavy, arching brow bones above the eyes and wrinkles covering its scaly flesh. The eyes themselves were bright and large, staring upon my sister and me. It had four pairs of legs, each with a different number of toes and claws ranging from one to four. And its most striking feature- the immense set of pleasantly tattered bat-like wings- were muscular, and yet flawed as though eroded by water from shoulder to tip. I knew that this creature would lead me to all I had ever feared, and all I had ever wanted.

It turned around and flew away, as soon as my sister and I reached the window. I was not worried- something told me it would return. Strange are inner thoughts. My sister perceived the same, but unlike me, she was fearful. Her cheeked were pink and face pale as she look over at me, in nervous eyes that glistened as long, dark eyelashes flickered.

"What was that?" she asked softly.

"Nothing at all."

It came again, the following night. This time, it stayed for a few second before flying back into the deep, dark night. Its body moved as a ribbon, unperturbed by the laws of aerodynamics. My sister asked the same questions, her dark hair falling softly over her shoulder,

"What was that?"

"Nothing at all." She looked out the window again.

"I fear it," she whispered.

The third night, the creature landed on our roof. It stayed, body glistening. It stared at me. My sister did not notice it until I ran to the window. She watched with eyebrows perplexed as I cranked open the window.

"What are you doing?" she asked, silken white nightgown falling softly over her soft body. I didn't answer, but continued to crank open the window. The night, previously filtered and dulled through the glass, began to fill up my range of vision in all its rich intensity. I swung a leg out onto the roof where the creature sat. Again, my sister spoke,

"Don't do that. Something bad will happen. I know something bad will happen. Please, come back." I smiled and swung my other leg through the window, and made last eye contact with my sister. My head was still in the warm, safe room. My feet were on the roof, in the night of mystery and excitement. My sister stepped over to the window, looking more frantic.

"Don't go out there. You can still come back inside."

"I don't want to." I brought the rest of my body out of the room and stood up, breathing in the cold, night air. It filled my lungs and body as I walked to the creature, waiting patiently for me. Its body was a ribbon even on the roof, rippling softly with a beauty that made me long happily for all it represented. I took my seat on the creature's strong and graceful body, sitting and feeling my skin against its cool, smooth scales. Its wing lifted and I felt a sweep of air as the creature and I lifted into the sky.

We were feet about the roof, above the house, above my sister who I knew to be still staring out the window. I felt the wind whistle past my ears and the pressure build against my face, as my hair flew back as though the wind's plaything. And then, I felt myself compressing against the body of the dragon, and I became smaller, harder, smoothing. I shrunk and smoothed out as though batter or reformed clay. I became another glistening scale against the creature's back. The creature flew on like a ribbon into the night, sporting one more sparkling scale against its back.

Another Old Traveler

by Ev Edan

The old traveler yet again began the walk down a dusty, country road in search of small adventures. He was an elderly man, with beaten gray rags and wisps of graying and white hair. His eyes were the most alive things about him, for they sparkled full of memories of a youthful life not yet ended.

The traveler had walked many years, through country and city, through sea and shore, and into the deep forests and mountains which have no direction. He has long lived a life of much loss and little gain, on the material side of things. On the other side, the gains have all been his.

The man passed through a brush and stopped near a group of children playing in the mud. For a second, one might wonder if he would join them, his hands making grasping motions toward the children. But the man withdrew the withered hand, controlling the situation that was soon to elapse. The children played no heed, distracted as they were.

The man called out, "Oh children, how gleeful you appear in your games! Would you teach me?" The children roared with laughter at this strange old man and his likewise strange request. A larger one replied with a voice like that of a pig,

"Old man, why would you play? Has a beggar time for games of this sort?" The man chuckled before replying,

"A beggar may not, but I do. Something that entrances you all as this mud must be worth finding out about." The large boy had more authority in his reply as he said,

"Be off beggar, before I beat you with a stick!" He touched a nearby limb threateningly, the limber branch bending in his hand. The old man nearly raised an eyebrow.

"I see it is your father who speaks through your lips, boy. Pray , is your head so small it cannot keep your opinion, along with your father's?" The large boy began to redden in face, and his expression turned from amusement to anger. A smaller, but not younger boy began to talk directly to the large in a worried tone,

"Let off, he means no harm to us."

"I appreciate the gesture, boy" said the traveler. The larger boy turned to the smaller as he snarled,

"Helping the beggar, now? I suppose you must owe some sort of loyalty to him, neither of you have anything."

"You're one to talk, without a father" replied the boy in a tone revealing he knew well he'd won the argument. The large boy leapt upon the small in a struggle that lasted until the wanderer, who had been waiting impatiently, whistled out a note so loud it shook the trees. The boys ceased their fight, hands over ears. The smaller said nothing, but the larger cried out,

"Cease that racket! We have no need for you here, be gone!"

"But you ought to know that I am gifting you here, today. You have a father; I am he," replied the wanderer, having indeed ceased the whistle.

"Your lies fool none, beggar" replied the larger boy, though with much less conviction in his voice. "How dare you attack my parentage?"

"I have attacked much more, I believe. I've attacked your future, and you'll likely attack your son's. No one in this line has a chance for fame or wealth. Wanderers, the all."

"But I've no reason to wander."

"Some would choose the life of a wanderer" remarked the elderly man. "Especially those in hindsight". From the distance, a farmer brandishing a plow fell into eyesight, obscuring the air by his screamed curses.

"It's the farmer, run!" cried out a boy who had been silent in the mud. A huge splashing was heard, as the children struggled for movement. The large boy fell into a state of fear, his eyes searching for a place to hide. The farmer was closer now, and his screamed words became clear.

"You've stolen your last, boy! Your mother claims that whipping'll do you good, aye, but it's been lies!" The man was visibly filled with drink, holding a broken bottle in the hand that was free from the plow. "No one will notice the death of a fatherless brute, and your mother will never know!" The boy gave a squeak and ran into the brush on the same path the old wanderer had taken to enter. In an instant he was gone. "Run!" cried the wanderer.

"Run forever, the path is deep and long but there be none that aren't." He turned to the farmer who seemed to be attempting to enter the brush. In a swift movement, the wanderer hit the farmer on the top of the head with a limber branch, and the farmer fell unconscious to the ground. All the children had gone, save the small, skinny one who had spoken to defend the wanderer. The scene had once again returned to one of peaceful silence. The wanderer walked over to the skinny boy who had a face full of neither fear, nor confusion.

"You'll need a hat, for wandering," he remarked to the boy.

"But I have no reason to wander."

"No, but you need none. You are stronger of soul than that, I can see it."

"The larger one, he had to go or the farmer would have done him in."

"A life can be lived by choice, or by force m'boy. The same life is worth much more to the former." He tossed the ragged hat to the skinny, small boy who took it looking up at the wanderer with large eyes.

Nonfiction

Teenaged Car Crash

By Celia F.

I heard the crash. It sounded as though something heavy had been dropped, like a garage door or a boulder. A few minutes later, there was a second noise. This time, it was a siren. I sat up in the couch I had been sitting on, and saw flashing red lights, breaking the peace of the night. But I didn't get up and go look outside. I told myself that if an ambulance was there, it wasn't as though I could do anything to help. The ambulance workers would do the best they could whatever the situation, and that is far better than anything I could do. Besides, chances were someone had just broken a finger and got a little overanxious, or some kid's overprotective mother was worried about a low fever.

A policeman came to the door the next morning. My Dad answered, and the policeman grimly told him the news: a car accident had occurred last night a block from our house, and two high school students were killed. They had been driving 80 miles per hour before smashing into a tree. And the policeman asked my Dad if he had heard anything or perhaps saw the crash. He hadn't. I sat still in a chair by the computer.

The policeman left, and I found my voice. "I heard it," I said. My Dad looked at me confused, as though unsure why I hadn't told the policeman my story. "It's not like I know anything they don't already know," I continued, justifying my action.

Why didn't I speak out? The truth was; I felt guilty. Like I should have gone outside when I heard the crash. I wasn't with those students, when they were driving in their car. But I was only a few yards away from where they crashed. I could have gone outside a minute before and prevented it somehow. I could have waved them down, or called the police before the accident even occurred.

I wasn't at fault for not going out. Not really. And of course I wasn't responsible for the crash. Realistically, I could never have known what was going to happen. But I still felt guilty. I believe that we have to let the guilt and the grief pass. Losing a friend, a loved one, or a schoolmate is always going to be hard. Throughout our lives, we will have to deal with issues like this. We have to know how to deal with them in a way that we can survive and thrive.

I didn't know the students who died in that crash. I didn't know they were out that night, or that they were driving home. I didn't know they were going to crash, and I wouldn't have been able to help them even if I had gone outside when I heard the noise. Receding into grief doesn't help anyone. In the memories of those we lose, we have to continue to hope and laugh and live.

Creation as a Conflict

By Elena S.

Science and religion have been known to conflict in modern day. What with the evolution versus creationism debate that seems to be springing up throughout television and magazines, people seem to consider science almost a separate religion in itself, complete with heavily devoted followers called scientists. Ask the average person what the heavily religious medieval folk thought back in the day about science, and it is usually assumed that anyone practicing science was frowned upon, considered a witch and burned, or something in between. This is completely false. Throughout history, science and religion were harmonious. Monks, in fact, were often the scientists of the time period. It was assumed that God had created this world they lived in, and scientists were merely discovering its natural aspects. Both science and religion had been around in times before most human history was traceable. So why the sudden division between the two?

My opinion is there is no division. About fifty percent of scientists believe in a God, more or less depending on which poll you observe. The majority of them believe that God guided evolution. They just don't take the word of the Bible literally. The public view of a war between scientists and religious leaders is a false one. After all, in very few areas does the Bible actually contradict modern science. The Bible generally addresses moral and spiritual concerns, while science examines closely the physical aspects of the universe. Those against science will use the argument that the Bible does address the physical world- that every word of it mentioning history and creation is a truth. Any modern studies found contradicting with these truths are considered false. But the Bible generally does not go into specifics about the physical universe. The exception seems to be the story of creation.

To all those unfamiliar with the scientific theory of worldly creation and the religious belief on creation, I will briefly explain. The scientific idea of creation is known as the Big Bang. Note: this is very much the Big Bang Theory in a nutshell. I would advise anyone interested to find more information on it. A speck containing all matter and energy existing exploded in a big bang, separating all matter and energy. Everything flew apart, eventually creating the plants, stars, etc. we have today. Through more or less a bizarre turn of coincidences/ set of causes and reactions, life was created on the planet Earth. Life began very simply, but eventually evolved into the forms we have today.

The biblical opinion on creation contradicts with the Big Bang theory. In the Bible, God created the Earth and life on it in six days, resting on the seventh. There are various interpretations to exactly what the Biblical view actually means, especially concerning the length of a "day" and correct translations from the original script.

And so, we now have various peoples arguing over which idea is right. They generally do this arguing through public schools. Biology classes have been confronted with teaching anti-religious ideals, namely the Big Bang Theory. Since the separation between church and state must be recognized, people are taking the stance that Intelligent Design - meaning the creation of human being of life by a higher being- is also a scientific theory, and should therefore be taught alongside the big Bang Theory.

The intelligent design idea cannot be disproved. There were no witnesses at the beginning of the universe, nor is such a simulation likely to ever be created for the human eye. Intelligent Design could very well be the actual, scientific truth. So what are the arguments opposing intelligent design being taught in schools? The answer is probability. What are the chances the Big Bang Theory is true, compared to the chances of intelligent design? The fact is; we have a high amount of proof leading to the Big Bang Theory- and little or none leading to Intelligent Design.

The purpose of science class is to teach the most reliable method, with the most scientific proof to back it up. There are an unlimited amount of beliefs that could be obtained regarding the creation of Earth and mankind. The school curriculum simply cannot use every conceivable one. A notable example is the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. This church believes that a flying spaghetti monster created all Earth and life as we know it. It was created by a man with a physician degree who does not actually believe in his own spaghetti monster idea. He has sent letters to various school boards demanding that the spaghetti monster theory be taught, as it cannot be disproved. So why aren't we teaching it? The fact is; we have absolutely no scientific proof behind it- similar to our proof for Intelligent Design in that aspect. Again, the purpose of science class is not to teach all possible theories, but the ones with the most scientific reasoning behind them.

While there are a great many conceivable theories on the subject of the creation of the universe and life on Earth, public schools must remain committed to teaching those that have the most scientific proof. People are free to believe what they wish, but schools must be unconcerned with religion. While intelligent design is certainly a possibility, it is not fit to be taught in a public school unconcerned with religion. Until new scientific evidence reveals otherwise, the existence of higher beings must be taught outside of school. Unless of course, we wish to concern our students with the various actions of the giant spaghetti monster

Poetry

Movement

By Anonymous

Movement is when the

World around you stops to watch

As you go by

On Historians

By Anthony H.

A wishing well can stand the test of time

But wishes may not live to see the day

So while a truth at rest is hard to mime

The unknown lie has power strong to stay

Which leads the scribe to scratch a quill in vain

And learned men must build the fortress blind

If recollection of a fact is sane

The civil arms will jump to break that mind

If ancient trees are but onto the ground

Their base will only truly yield their years

But take a stick and scratch what will be found

No tree can fall if hearing are no ears

And forced are we to vaguely speculate

For lost our past and lost will be our fate

If Petals Fell

By J.G. Haver

Where have all the flowers gone?

When they had to hide

Where were you when they looked down?

Shriveled up and died

And could a good man see them then

Or was it all a lie

Were there ever any flowerbeds

Was there any sky?

Gray

By Nona Sestent

Gray Is the neutrality of all things

Other colors are bright and dark

They prance around, causing confusion

Straining the eye

Straining the mind

Straining the heart

Until it weeps and cries out for rest

Then its prayers are answered

When the blue

The red

The yellow

The black

And the white

Are all paraded together

In the winter, afternoon sky

As though a giant paintbrush swept across the sunset,

Nullifying the brights and darks

Smoothing them all out

Silencing their noise

Removing complications

Until it is all a quiet neutrality

Because in reality

All colors are just separated parts

Of a whole, beautiful, silent gray

Flies

by Ev Edan

The wilted wispy wasps of Nam

Could fly but 30 feet

Before they buzzed into the pit

Where man traps his deceit

They cry out to Apollo's eye

Whose chariot does rest

Far from the pit of stale decay

Where no one need confess

So if you deem to walk the wasps

Who can no longer fly

Remember that nothing escapes

Apollo's one blind eye

	The Lotus Reader *Literary Magazine*

The Lotus Reader

Literary Magazine