Entry #15

The Amber Pillar
by Eduardo A. Márquez Castro


He begins his travels with a brisk walk. The air around flutters its swishing perfection—visible and clear. It’s a dismissible thing, this feeling of confusion upon the presence of its very word.

There is not much to behold while walking it, step by step. The colors are already assimilative to his eyes. He’s been in their presence for enough time. “A stone should be here,” the man whispers. “A stone pillar—amber. Alone—forlorn.” He remains in place, staring longingly at the spot where the pillar was to be. “Whatever happened to it, to its meaning? It was a word, I’m sure. It started with the same letter, I believe. Prism. Is it not so? Is it not the will of all beings to stare at the Prism? What is its importance, then, if it’s not here? It pains me to be in the presence of nothing. Nothing when it should be everything. My very breath seems to long it. See? Its colors flicker as I speak. There’s a story to be beheld. There is a most comfortable silence to be broken as truth seeps through the ages. This is the White Wall, where purity rests. Where it leads I cannot know, but these lights are more than enough reason for me to live with hope. Now I live among the lights that oppress shadow. It is not Heaven, it is the idea of it. It is not Heaven, it is the mold. It’s a vision. It’s a truth.”