the rock purging

after having hiked a considerable distance on a plain i came to the foothills of a furious mountain range. due to my suspicion over the heaviness of my backpack and uncertainty of the road ahead, i laid my pack down to catch my breath, wipe my brow and investigate my luggage. i chose a stump of an ageless cedar to rest on, laying my pack beside it. i was driven to fits for some rest and relaxation and couldn't immediately have them.

shortly after, i rose and began to unload the burdensome pack, i noticed all the items were stones that resembled scars. i noticed that these rocks were no gems, just knarly, ashen, corroded: neither stones nor pebbles in smoothness.

turning back to the stump which i had initially rested on before shuffling through my pack, i quickly witnessed that the stump had either turned into a well while i was up or had always been one. i don't right remember. even so i chose this well of indeterminate depth as the recipient of my asinine rocks.

when i had been distributing the rocks into the well for a while, it occured to me that my own faculties weren't supported by any particular power of my own. this purging wasn't due as much to my effort but my willingness. the rocks were tossed by the strength of forgiveness, and they sank by the weight of forgetfulness.