Story #9

He sat down in front of the statue. His feet were scratching against the sand on the ground, and his knees were scratched so that the frames around the holes in his pants were dirty as well. He bowed, and let his forehead touch the ground, feeling how the energies floated through his system, all through his body. How he felt so much heavier – relaxed – when kneeling so that his most sacred voice within the Golden Silk inside his Solar Plexus got all warm and comforting. His face broke out in a smile, his many days old beard got lifted, so that you could see his teeth if you would have looked after them. They were white and fresh.

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