He walks around Ruskin Park on weekends. The almond trees are in blossom again by the bandstand, and an old man on a bench basks in the sunshine.
He takes a bath in the dark when he gets home, just a small white candle for company. Dead ancestors, and even a few dead pets, are called upon to protect his family.
Then he lies on the borrowed bed, counting clouds speeding east. He sends a silent prayer to those he never met; to those without shelter, peace or happiness that night. May they be protected from the folly of others.
Messages from the Log is a series of exactly 100-word flash pieces — memories, observations, fiction — that has been running for two years, with this piece being #73.
If you enjoyed “Prayer”, you might also like this one:
Reincarnation
Lying in bed, listening to an online nondual teacher. Staring out of an open window—a sunny autumn day.
On point as always. You are so wonderfully talented my friend.
Thank you Ollie 🙏
This flash from your inner world lights up mine ✨ both timeless and timely ✨ it speaks (to me) from a place of deep connectedness across perceived individualities, differences and distances 💗 soothing in its loneliness, comforting in the dark.