Arhat

— Ronak Soni

 

He rode the cacophony away from the field, to where his teammate had hit the ball. And he temperately fought against its push, so that his ride on the wave was smooth, and sure; so that he got his left hand under the ball and dove forward to drive it backward – so that one might say that the wave broke at that moment with him its lip.

– And, just as a wave is unmoved by the piercing of the surface by the tip of an animal’s shell just where it will first hit the sand, he felt nothing – not even triumph at the winning of the rally – but completeness, at the reality of the knife.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s