Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Drabble: Trial


The student balances with one foot on the pole, balanced precariously, arms outstretched. The master gently brushes an ostrich plume dusted in rose-hip powder along the most sensitive areas-- nose, underarms, nipples, toes. The student doesn’t twitch, though it takes an enormous force of willpower. The tickles don’t subside, but because of the powder intensify into burning fire. Finally he can take no more, and as he reaches to scratch, the balance is lost, and he falls down the mountain.

The master sighs. “Will I ever find a student smart enough not to put up with these ridiculous tests?”

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