They say Jesus Kristus was untouched.You learn it in school, you hear it from parents, from grandparents—from them especially—from friends, and from preachers. You read it in the Bible: Jesus Kristus was the first to, and the only one ever to, escape, ascend, transcend, what have you, the Storm. He was the first ever to rise above it unscathed, as they like to put it on the late-night TV preacher-shows, especially now with a new Storm approaching, although unscathed means the same ...

The early sunlight struck the dead seal pup just so. It rendered the pattern of light and shadow unworldly and it made the sand sing.At first glance the dead seal looked nothing like what it was. Rather, it looked like a small, smooth, seal-shaped hillock of sand, a miniature dune lovingly sculpted and then abandoned by the tide. The retreating waters still licked its seaward edge now and then, as if not really wanting to let go, proud of its creation perhaps, touching it, retreati...

The Bodhisatta Setaketu saw that the time had now come.After a nearly uncountable span in the Tusita Heaven awaiting his destiny, awaiting his return to the little blue planet so far below, how could he know that now was the time?Because, far below, man had begun once again to ask meaningful questions. Because nearly incessant war and slaughter had finally begun again to subside, and the northern part of the large Indian subcontinent now lay spent but peaceful after centuri...

"You are not really here, are you?""Well," he said, pulling at his long beard with a gnarled little hand, small booted feet barely reaching the edge of the seat and showing dark leather soles scratched and patterned by years and miles, "that depends on who's looking."He didn't exist, of course."That would be me," I told the little mirage."Then I'm here," he said.No, could not be. Still, as if to humor my hallucination, I said, "Do you mind if I touch...

I turn over for what must be the tenth time in as many minutes. The ground here is uneven and greets every attempt at comfort with a new root, or a small rock, or a pebble, or a hollow. I cannot fall asleep; I cannot find the position that might allow me to. Or perhaps I have slept, perhaps I have stretched my legs a little on sleep's surface, I don't know, but I do know that now I am very much awake.So, back to the drawing board. I ease my way around again, slowly, aware of Rick n...

I attempted suicide in 1965. I wasn't very good at it.For one, while I have since learned that the lethal dose of regular 75 mg aspirins lies on the far side of 500 tablets, I attempted my lethal feat with 121 of the little darlings (yes, I kept a tally).For two, I did lose my nerve late that fatal afternoon, and alerted my dad to my Bayeresque overindulgence.This is not to say that this was not an interesting exercise, it was. I was sincere in my banging on that da...

He had a nose to scare children. It was half a large punctured pear, red and pockmarked. He was bald but for a grayish sprinkling along the sides and back of his head: almost, but not quite, monkish. He had the brow of a sperm whale. He could often be heard mumbling to himself. He was not underweight. He was considered strange.But he did have the kindest eyes—doglike, wet.He lived three flights up in the elevator-less building on the corner of Madison and Hoover. It was a f...

"You don't really exist, do you?""Well," he said, pulling at his long beard with a gnarled little hand, his booted little feet barely reaching the edge of the seat and showing dark leather soles scratched and patterned by years and miles, "that depends on who's looking."He didn't exist, of course. Couldn't.Still, as if to humor the hallucination, I asked, "Can I touch you?"He hesitated, but after a heartbeat or two answered as if he had not, "Of course."...

His grandfather was a cabinet maker. The rarely smiling old man who now had trouble walking and whose fingers struck the young boy as gnarled, helpless roots of some moving-about-the-house-with-difficulty tree.The grumpy old man who had trouble chewing most of his food for lack of teeth and who now and then drooled soup on his shirt at table and then pretended that he had not, even after mother would hand him a napkin, not even a thank you.This old man's name was Ljunge. It...

After much haggling and some give and take (the give mainly—actually, I'd go so far as to say exclusively—provided by God), He finally relented: "All right, all right," He said (twice—so four "all rights" in toto), all right (a fifth) we could leave if we wanted, if we really wanted. He sighed as he said this.This is how:Breathe out.For a full comfortable and thoughtless (as in no thoughts at all, not even a micro-one) sixty seconds do not breath in.Then do....

I am a blade of grass. I live in a field of blades of grass.My name is Blade.So is the name of every other blade of grass in this field, for we are all brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers and sons and daughters and cousins and cousins of cousins, and we are all of us children of First Blade.And we are all one with the field and the field is all one with us. That is why I am never alone, and that is why I am always alone. That is why talking to my brother ne...

Professor God stepped a little closer, then bent forward and gazed over his student's shoulder and down on the trial universe soon to form under the transparent reality dome in front of them. Then he frowned, straightened, and said "No. No. No. That's too many."Student God, a creative and eager-to-learn lad of about eight or so billion years turned away from the dome under which he was constructing the first molecule, and looked up at the professor, then turned back to the shiny, s...