strangedaze

I didn't bother worrying when pieces of our apartment started to dematerialize. The stereo, knives, forks, her blow dryer. 'The material world is illusion, maya,' Master Don said the first day of our Zen meditation class. 'And I only take cash.' The barer our apartment looked, the more in tune I felt with my inner atman, which, of course, was really just another part of the divine.

We started going to Master Don's class during midterms, when both of our heads felt vacuum sealed and stuffed with useless knowledge. 'Your mind is like a teacup,' Master Don told us. 'Once it's brimming with the trivial, there's no room for the spiritual.' Sometimes the things Master Don said blew my mind.

Susan and I had been living together for the entire year, after seeing each other for another two. She was pre-med, I was in Kinesiology. One day she was lying on the bed, pony tail swinging off of the edge, anatomy textbooks scattered around her like severed appendages. She asked me: 'Do you think there's more to life than this?'

I said I didn't know, that who really knows what's going on half the time. And I told her that I wouldn't be going with her Master Don's meditation sessions anymore. I just didn't have the time. 'But you keep going, and me and you can meditate together on weekends.'

She yawned a lot. Master Don said that yawning purges negative energy. Master Don said that the more you yawn, the closer you come to Nirvana.

Master Don spoke a lot about reincarnation, how our souls are reborn over and over again, doomed to repeat existence for eternity until we are able to see past the illusionary nature of our shallow, hopelessly materialistic lives. She told me this, eating a bowl of festively colored green and red macaroni that had been collecting dust in our cupboards since Christmas. She yawned, which made me yawn.

I can't say for sure when she transcended our world. For me, enlightenment came in the form of projectile vomit, splashing against a crystal clear window pane overlooking the parking lot. As I watched her skip out of our building, duffel bag slung around her shoulder, I slumped down against the wall and felt the stinging trickle of Nirvana urinating on my head.

Master Don drives a ferrari, bliss red, and she looked just gorgeous in the back seat.

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His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.

Peter Thomas

Wow. That last sentence actually gave me tingles -_-

I've read it three times now, and I still like it just as much. I'm not sure about the mini-para on 'yawning bringing you closer to nirvana', but something about the story just clicks with me, and it has a dark edge I love.

Great work there, strangedaze. Very great indeed.

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gohn67

I love it. Good stuff.

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Wyndstar

That was sharp, economical and at the end, cuttingly brutal. Though I could see what the ending was going to be, it was just such a cool read, I didn't much care.

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Old enough to know better, young enough to think I can still get away with it.

Jimbob

Nice piece of work - just a few things that I had a little trouble with:
I had the idea that N and Susan were girlfriends who were sharing a room till I went back and read the part about how they had moved in together after seeing each other for two years. I'd like to see the realtionship and the expectations N had for it elaborated a bit more. I knew the ending was supposed to be something of a shock, but I wasn't sure why.

Also, I'm wondering why Susan was in the back of the Ferrari. Why not the front?

strangedaze

Peter - Rockin'. Many thanks, friend.

Gohn - Good to hear from you and I'm particularly glad you liked it, since I think you represent the audience I'm usually writing for.

Wyndstar - I actually had to make this as short as possible for the place I submitted it to (my campus lit rag, which is usually just spilling poetry). Thanks for your comment!

Jimbob - Girlfriends, eh? Kinky. As I mentioned above, this piece had to be short as shit, so there wasn't much room for elaboration. As for the ending, the idea was that Master Don is just too fucking slick and N was just too blinded by other things to see it. I tried to work the relationship's problems into all the spiritual babble. And yes, perhaps Susan should have been in the front of the ferrari. Somehow I just pictured her lounging in the back seat.

Thanks, y'all.

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His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.

Chris Miller

Love this piece man. Any worrier of dogmatic faith is a friend of mine. And Eastern religions don’t get near enough crap smeared on them. The comic gullibility of the narrator works very well. The puke on the glass is great imagery, just not sure what motivated it. The yawning was my favorite part. It seems to speak to the boringness of religious thought and also to its tendency to turn its faults into virtues (e.g. faith as a good thing). Faith is a euphemism.

I like all your work, but this is definitely one of my favorites.

Couple edits:

maya = Maya ?

“Susan and I had been living together for the entire year, after seeing each other for another two.”

Funny tense/order. Maybe, “…after having seen each other for two.” Or at least strike “another.”

“And I told her that I wouldn't be going with her Master Don's meditation sessions anymore.”

with her to

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Barcelona Review story: http://www.barcelonareview.com/64/e_cm.html

Lucid

I really enjoyed that story, short as it was. I agree with Jimbob, though; she should be riding the the front seat. Putting her in the back seat ruins the effect somewhat, even though I got what you were saying.

strangedaze

Chris,

as always, great eye. glad you liked it. is that you in your avatar? why did i always envision you as a 90 year old transvestite? just kidding, of course. goods to hear from you

Lucid,

Yeah, I'm not a fan of the backseat. who knows why I did it, but thanks for pointing it out.

Thanks all!

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His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.

bornagainathiest

good, i likked the thing with the yawning. seemed clever to me. the ending seemed a little rushed but hey it's flash fiction, everythings rushed

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Sigg

Haha, oh man this is good stuff. Because I actually know people who are that gullible. I mean they here some stuff about how to "be spiritual" and they eat it up ready to throw everything away without a second thought. Not that I have a problem with finding your own way, but being impulsive and blind about it is what makes it kind of pathetic. Good job.

hahamoha

Paints a very good picture, nice short story!

-hahamoha

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To warm the frozen swamp as best it could
With the slow smokeless burning of decay.

strangedaze

many thanks to all. glad you got a kick.

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His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.