A young shadow staggered the streets. It swayed and blinked with the madness of the night, unsure and unsteady. In an unconscious sunder from its lifeless sailing, it became aware of a house and a door. The sick coating on its being pulled it to the stoop of the homestead, and something not-of-the-dark-being rapped sharply on the door. It waited in sorrow against its will.
The door opened and a creature of swirling gray sharply began to criticize the shadow. It demonized and denounced the shadow’s existence, and the shadow quaked and squealed silently within. The awful gray mass scratched at the shadow, and the shadow recoiled itself into the house. The door closed behind it.
~
An old light hovered about its house in peace and joy. Life was happening, moment by moment, in perfect harmony with the Source. There was a charming little knock at the door and the light pulsed with excitement. The light did not know it was incomplete, but now it knew it was, because something had come to complete it. The joy of joys danced in its mind!
The light opened the door and saw a small smiling angel sitting on the stoop. “Aren’t you wonderful!” praised the light. The angel smiled. “You are most welcomed into my home,” offered the light, and the angel floated in peaceably.
“Would you like some rosehip tea?” hummed the light to the angel. The shadow wailed at the offense of the gray mass and shrunk onto itself. “Fine, my dear friend. I will brew you the best I’ve ever made.” Nausea percolated piteously in the shadow as it was berated by the suppurating grayness. “Do make yourself comfortable,” said the light to the angel and watched it become content before leaving for the kitchen. The shadow balked as its incomprehensible tormentor stormed away.
The shadow was afraid. What terrible misfortune had brought it to this tragic end. The gray beast had most likely left to plan its final attack. The situation was dire, the future, futile, and all lost in the wilderness of despair. The shadow had to strike first. It swirled with fear and dark remembrance. It reached deep into itself and searched. It searched for its only slight chance of survival. It searched, and, in grasping, pulled out its only hope: a small black blade.
Yes! The grayness, the source of all the shadow’s ills would fall by its hand. The shadow would slice at the gray’s sides, poking and jabbing until it grew weak. Then it would cut at the gray’s eyes and slice at its wicked tongue. By that time the grayness would be so weak that it would lie on the ground, and then the shadow could stab it finally in the back and be free. It was the only way. The shadow braced itself and ran its steely finger up and down the dull blade.
~
The fragrance of love wafted through the house. The light drifted into the room with its tray of crimson tea. “I’m so glad you’ve come!” said the light and noticed the angel was holding a daisy in its hand. “You beautiful dear! Is that for me?” the light asked as it set the tea on the table by the chairs. The angel nodded with a twinkle and raised the flower happily in its hand.
The shadow raised its blade to frighten its oppressor. The gray devil shrieked with horror. It bounded about the room in anger, vomiting hate at the heroic little shadow.
“Let me give you this fresh bouquet I cut this morning!” said the light and the gray monster slashed at the shadow with a large sharp knife. The angel began handing the light flower after flower. “You’re tickling me!” The shadow sliced at its enemy. “Here, sweet angel! Do you want me to hold the whole posy?” The gray villain scratched at the sweet angel’s face. “Hand me the flowers, blesséd one, and we will enjoy our tea,” said the light to the slashing shadow.
The gray demon howled fiercely. The angel offered freely and pleasantly. The light opened its heart fully. The shadow grabbed the knife tightly. The light grabbed the shadow’s hands.
The tip of the blade pierced the light’s luminous flesh. “Thank you, angel, they’re very lovely.” The angel smiled as it sank the blade deep into the light’s soul. The gray beast cooed as the flowers were placed on its bosom. The shadow laughed surprisingly as flowers poured out of its hands. The light pulled the shadow’s wrists, and the knife sank into its heart through to the hilt.
The light slumped to the floor. “I didn’t know I was incomplete.” The shadow looked down at the light in awe. Where was the gray monster who had tortured it so? “Thank you, Angel,” whispered the light, and off to sleep it fell, complete forevermore.
The angel looked around at the house. How perfect and fair everything seemed. It picked up the flowers at its feet and walked to the chair. There was hot rosehip tea on the table and the essence of love permeating the air. It sat, and sipped, and felt its light grow. Life was happening, moment by moment, in perfect harmony with the Source.
And then there was a charming little knock at the door.
~~~