AT THE GATE

CHAPTER I

“. . .when you are neither inside nor outside the Garden of Peace of Mind, where are you?” asked Hubert. “I am at the gate” answered Sybelle. “The gate is guarded by my own fears and desires. I cannot come back into the garden until I find a way to beat my many fears and desires. -What is the way?” asked the man. “Perhaps a lot of love” said the woman. “But what is love?”

It was that time late in the afternoon when the sun turns into a grapefruit. Up there in the sky, one thousand happy swallows were making a lot of noise. “Can I call you Spring? asked Hubert.
-Not really.
-Too bad.
-Oh! Don’t be silly! Have you heard about the bees?”

CHAPTER II

“The garden” said the man. “A perfect circle. A snake biting on its own tail. The Universe. A woman’s. . . -Yes, said the woman. I suppose you could turn those ideas into a lot of symbolic art, and not so symbolic too. -What do you make of the sun?” asked Hubert. “I make it a source of light. Reason. It comes and goes, and comes again” said Sybelle.

There was a short silence, then they both said: “Let’s have some red wine” at the same time

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[Picture: At the gate by reading_is_dangerous]