Random Short Stories

The Philosopher

The philosopher said aloud-what a beautiful sunny day-which I couldn't help but find very mundane on his part and retired to meditate. Why had he said such a thing? He was not to make vain comments about the climate. His most vulgar conversation was unsettling, what would have happened to cause him such a slip of the intellect? How important a sunny day can be? And so, the philosopher's apprentice went to sleep.

The next morning, he thought it was a nice sunny day, but he didn't say anything. In dreams he thought he had understood such a strange situation with the philosopher. He recalled what the old man had told him shortly before that tremendous rant. He said he had written some things that he didn't understand himself, but when he wrote them he felt in tune with the universe, he could almost feel the movement of translation of the Earth and see the stars with all their details light-years away. Although he explicitly referred to the day, it was not about it, but his mind. Clouds and prejudices no longer occupied it. He had lost those stands that only hindered him, he had accepted everything. Having accepted everything, he became part of the universe. He could see everything, he left the blindness and saw life itself, not the day. How could he not celebrate a sunny day! If he was the heat and light himself.

When the apprentice went to see the philosopher, he was gone. There was only one shack and one manuscript left. The young man proceeded to read the book. He stopped at the first line. He didn't understand anything. In his extensive studies he had never known that language or seen his master write it. He realized that the letters seemed to disappear. The book itself was falling apart in his hands.

He became one with the universe, indeed, said the apprentice. O master, enlighten me.