The Mist

From a collection of 100-word stories & wonders

A hermit-poet wanders mountain paths in the presence of a mystery hidden in the mist. Image of “Poet on a Mountaintop” by Shen Zhou, via Wikimedia

From time out of mind the Hermit had wandered these mountain paths on sandaled feet, lingering on rocky summits to gaze upon a landscape endlessly rustling, swelling, writhing—tracing dragon-like arabesques in existence: autumn leaves drifting through slanting sunlight and shadow; winter snow pillowing on cliffside pines; icy waters rushing down into fragrant, spring-blossomed valleys; a thousand colors rippling in summer heat. But it was the mist that kept him up here. The way it clung to the peaks and pooled in the hollows, suggesting there was much more present here than met even his clear-seeing eyes.

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