Thursday, September 26, 2013
A rock. It was all I was. A rock. Yep, that’s right. Yet, I can hear every word you’re saying about me being big and dumb. I landed in this area thousands of years ago. I can’t help where I land. I don’t have legs. I can’t walk away from this inconvenienced place. You have no right to talk about me as if I wasn’t here.
They deserved it. They deserved it for every word they spoke about me. I’m not a bitter rock, but they shouldn’t talk about me as if I’m dumb. I can’t speak to them, but they got too annoying for me. It wasn’t hard to have a few smaller, yet large rocks coming tumbling toward them as they watched helplessly as they fell. It felt nice -- extremely nice. I have this power to keep those I don’t like in line.
Hey, wait, what are you doing? Why are you praying? It’s not going to help -- hey, who are you anyway? I’ve never seen you in your robes before. You’re not from this village are you? Hey, stop. That hurts. I don’t want it to hurt. Please, stop hurting me. Please, sto …
It was a rock. A rock that had fallen into the middle of a road thousands of years ago. The people recently started to complain about it; it was annoying to have to walk around it. It was a huge rock, more of a boulder, but a rock nonetheless. The people had wanted to chip at it until the workers met terrible accidents. After, strange events began to occur more often. Smaller rocks would be moved to different locations. People would stop to talk to the rock. Some even apologized.
A traveling priest came to the village to ask about the rock in the middle of the road. It had become a legend around the village and neighboring villages. He had explained the rock was possessed by a Shoshin. Shoshin were lonely spirits that normally possessed inanimate objects. Something had angered this one, and it had taken on the form of the rock itself. A poltergeist of sorts that allowed it to move smaller rocks. The rock wasn’t harmful anymore. It was eventually destroyed since the priest had cast out the Shoshin. The legend of the village remained spoken word throughout the surrounding area.