Final Master Meeting

The Master called me into his quarters. The head attendant slipped into the big hall at night and slipped me a half-paper notice. Chewing Cow and Wasted Life were asleep.

I got up and walked over. Puzzling, I thought. He had beat me once today. “You will never understand!” he said. “You will continue this foolish thing you’re doing til the end of time! No one can help you!”

Maybe I’ll be kicked out of the training center, I thought.

 

I slid the door open. There he was! I’d never seen him before. Cool, cool beyond description. Sitting without moving. He knew nothing, I thought. His mind functions like a crystal clear river. A river of clear water, untouched by the mud at the bottom. His mind is perfect and flows like a child’s. Oh, how I wanted that for my own mind!

 

“Sit.” he said.

 

From inside his robe he produced a certificate. I felt dizzy, like the world was far below my feet and I was spinning. What?

“You’ve passed your examinations. You’ve attained supreme enlightenment. Anywhere you go now, you will be untouched. The thousands of phenomena will not budge you from your perch of perfection.”

“Master, I–“

“All that’s left to do is celebrate! You’ve made it! I’ll pour some sake!”

He expected me to be happy. I suddenly felt I had let him down, let down a dream version of him, someone that was not the Master, yet was. I was confused. Supreme enlightenment?

“I’m sure after these long years of searching and hurting yourself you feel relieved to have finally made it. Yes?”

I didn’t want to disappoint him.

“yes, it feels good.”

“Here, drink, drink!”

The vertigo got worse. I didn’t know what I was doing. On the master’s side was a letter opener. This can’t be right, I thought. I need to wake up out of this. I picked up the letter opener and dove it into my stomach before I could see the shock on the Master’s face.

“Very well, very well!” The master clapped his hands.

I, Novice Moron, felt myself slipping away into death.

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About vurinstitute

Horatio Somersault is the Director and Regent Chancellor of the VUR Institute, a think tank involving some as-yet-unknown and slightly spooky manipulations of time and interdimensionality. In his spare time Somersault enjoys writing poems and fables. You can read his writings, as well as those of other VUR inhabitants, at vurinstitute.wordpress.com. Though he lives a wanderer's life, his hometown is a domed biome inside the water core of the moon Europa. You can follow his experiences adapting to the customs of the early 21st century on his Twitter @VURdirector and can email him at vurinstitute at gmail dot com.
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