You know what was great about newspapers? Forced clarity. Writers were forced to wrap things up within a certain word count because they simply ran out of column. The internet has turned us in to a bunch of wafflers, because there's no need to self-edit when you can publish indefinitely. So these days, I'm super impressed when I read really beautiful, purposeful, stirring, concise prose that creates a compelling story in a limited number of words. It's so inspiring. This lovely story is one such example...
By Nyoshul Khenpo
Taken from “The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying”, by Sogyal Rinpoche.
Chapter 1)
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in. I am lost…
I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
-
Chapter 2)
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
-
Chapter 3)
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in…
It’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
-
Chapter 4)
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
-
Chapter 5)
I walk down another street.
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