Hands of a Monk

Jack walked up the steps softly to a silent courtyard. The silence was so deep it seemed as if a sound would be made it would break the world. Suddenly a solemn “Om” hit the couple in their chests shocking life into them once again. A small stone statue in caught his attention, breaking his trance. To make his lasting memory he took out his .35mm. He noticed a tadpole splashed in the shallow waters. The statues hands held life. Although faint and waning it was there nonetheless. Jack looked around for a pond. As he glanced about he noticed a crane probing the waters.

“Did you put this here?” he mocked.

In response it called and fled. Jack saw it as chance that he had come upon this and decided it was his duty to set it in its truer home.

“Honey, look over here.”

Jack turned up and waved to Mary. Jack trotted over with tremendous joy that filled his heart for a small thirty second memory.