angry, tattooed monk

angry, tattooed monk

zen, photography, & the musings of an angry, tattooed monk

short story. 4 august 2020


gloaming eased to darkness, the wind blew steady. a hut nestled within a copse of trees stood above the animal path.

i entered and sat on the earthen floor. there was a small hearth and fire.

i began to cough.

within my throat, a deep scratching tickle intensified. i began to retch. i rolled onto my hands and knees and vomited a dark, long, stringy mass. it was a thick rope of hair.

a few wet hairs stuck to my lips and face; i felt them move as my stuttered breath slowed. i placed the mass of hair in the fire. it smoldered before burning.

from behind, something moved towards me from the corner darkness. i leaned back against its legs to rest. it placed a thorny branch in my left hand and painted three horizontal stripes across my forehead. i closed my eyes. the skin beneath the stripes stung.

a scan of daishin's teacher chop

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