Somewhere in Asia...
Hiroshi
was upset at the death of his grand-father, a kind, gentle, and
honorable man; he may not have kept up with the times, but he
understood the sanctity of family and tradition. His dwelling
sparsely decorated, located on the steep side of the mountain,
aligned with the earth and stars according to generations of
ancestors before him.
Every
morning the sun rose, breaking through the bamboo louvers, with warm fingers it reached for the toes, and ever so slowly proceeded up the mans body, first the lower calf, gently over the thighs and groin, slowly caressing the belly, the cool morning breeze rustled as the warm fingers of sun proceeded up the man chest, until it reached the man's eyes; and gently the mans lashes would flutter and he awoke; refreshed and ready for the world.
His
grand-father explained it as his affair with “Mother Nature”,
no one really understood what he meant, but they knew he was happy, staying in the guest house, the main house; all the modern
conveniences one could every dream of, but the guest house; a little
warn and faded, lacking for better words a little “Tender
Loving Care” and one special item, a family relic, a sword with
a dragon crest on its handle, a steel blade folded over two thousand
times, finely crafted and honed, and still razor sharp after hundreds
of years. A blade that has never been completely unsheathe, since it
last battle where it took a mans life.
Those
days of feudal war are over, and as all things, humanity learns that
taking life as a form of population control does not work. Rules for
population control don't work, nations slowly falling apart at the
seams with a dwindling male population doesn't work, sure solutions
are ten fold, but are we losing our humanity in the process?
Hiroshi
eyes glazed over as the sword was handed over to him. According to
tradition it should have gone to the eldest male figure, but now
resided in his possession. A sword that had rode with the “Knights
of the Round-table”, but it was never confirmed, questioned,
maybe just thought of plain ludicrous at best. But for the sake of
family, an object both ridiculed and coveted, the old man did take
Hiroshi to one side shortly before his death and told him “Hiroshi,
you come from a long line of honorable men, like your ancestors
before you, you are the last and only Samurai of the 13th Column.”
Hiroshi
humored his grand-father and said, “I will guard it with
honor....” his grand-father replied, “Don't humor me, I
won't make it to Memorial Day, 2012, and you must carry a burden,
that your not prepared for, or trained to handle, the family secret
being the Mayan calender is off, Christ wasn't born on December 25th, it took the wise man six months journey by night, December 21st for the end of the world is a rouse, but one thing is true Memorial Day, 2012, marks the beginning of the alignment with the center of the universe; something will happen, either good or bad. You must be the Master of your destiny and what follows, now kneel while I knight you Samurai of the 13th Column”, Hiroshi, was
about to speak, but thought to himself, “I think he's gone
insane, the Samurai died a long time ago..., maybe I'll have to wait
and see what happens, anyway I'm not going to an event that is
supposed to happen, at a undisclosed location. I'll just look at
“Facebook“ and find some one in the area.”
Meanwhile there were signs of political unrest in Asia.
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