Agape: In Search of Universal Love
from the novel, The Lodging for the Rose
Rolf. A. F. Witzsche

Story 10 - A Weapons Mythology.
page 56


Story 10 - A Weapons Mythology.




      Coming home from Washington, from another meaningless emergency meeting, I found Sylvia waiting for me at the beach where the local Coast Guard patrol normally drops me off. There was no snow as yet that day, although snow was forecast. Still, the wind swept in cold from the North. It was nice to see Sylvia standing there. Naturally, we took some time out for a stroll along the beach before dinner.
      In the olden days our evenings after dinner, and after cleaning up, would have been spend in front of the open fire at Ross' place. Sylvia had made an effort to revive the old custom while I was gone, especially now at the Christmas season. At Ross' place the atmosphere had always been rather magical at times, especially when it became story telling time after dinner. Ross' place had a much larger and more open fireplace than we had. Also, we had found that an evening of story telling was far more relaxing and exciting than all the entertainment that the TV networks had to offer that we were able to track down with our satellite receiver system.
      The night of my return became such an occasion once again. Ross and Sylvia had arranged for us to share our dinner time, as in days past. This, of course, included sharing our problems and our wisdom afterwards. I must have talked for an hour about the problems we had discussed in Washington, and about the solutions we had worked out. This bored everybody. When Tony started to yawn he suggested that we have some hot chocolate, his favorite evening drink.
      While the milk was being heated Heather told us that we had received our first response in connection with the beach project that we had told everybody about, that we had later shelved. The response was in the form of a pilot story. A writer had been looking for a forum of open minded thinkers to discuss his idea for a book on weapons mythology that he was writing. Somehow he had found our address. Ross offered to read the story, just as he had always done in the past. He loved reading stories. He made himself cozy in front of the open fire, as we all did. I loved listening to him read.
      "It's a cute story," he said. "It sounds like Greek Mythology. But don't expect the kind of quality of thinking that we had been looking for back in the olden days. Still, its good enough for entertaining children when it's story telling time," he said and laughed. He said he had read the story when the manuscript arrived. Now he would read it to us.
       He placed his feet up on the hassock, opened the binder into which the story was bound. He started to read.
      On a planet a long time ago, in the third solar system beyond the North Star, two kingdoms developed a feud with each another. It happened one day during the time of the feud, as most people enjoyed the sunshine, cutting hay, washing their clothes, or sitting by the river catching fish, that his royal Lordship of the sovereign state of Greenfield sat in his exalted palace to which he had summoned all his lords and officers that they should give account of themselves. Over a hundred people had assembled for the occasion in the great reception hall near the bank of the river. His Lordship might not have seen the people by the water, excitedly catching fish. Or he might not have taken notice. On most occasion his thoughts were operating at much higher levels so that he he didn't see the ordinary things of his kingdom. When the time came for the court alchemist to give account of himself, his Lordship rose from his throne and shouted with a voice that echoed through the vast chamber; "What, no gold yet!!!"
      The lad who kneeled before him, shaking at the bottom of the cascade of stairs leading up to the royal throne, bowed his head ever deeper to the floor without as much as uttering a whimper in reply.

Next Page

|| - page index - || - chapter index - || - download - || - Exit - ||

 

 

 

 

 (c) Copyright 1998 - Rolf Witzsche
Published by Cygni Communications Ltd. North Vancouver, Canada