The man stood on the beach. The beach belonged to him as much as any man could own anything. There he reached out with a stout stick, and drew a line in the sand. \u201cNo one will cross this line, this is where I will stand, and none shall be allowed to pass.\u201d He watched the tide, and looked up at the sky, and was content. A snake approached, he wore a fine suit tailored to fit, and his scales were black and bright red. Despite his fancy dress the snake seemed hollow in some way. \u201cYou will let me pass,\u201d it ordered.
\n\u201cNo this is my line, and no one will cross it,\u201d the man replied.
\n\u201cVery well then,\u201d The snake drew out his wallet. \u201cHow much will it cost for you to let me pass.\u201d
\nIn his earlier days the man would have accepted that, taking a fair sum. After all what did the line really matter. Even a few years previous he would have named an outrageous sum, something the snake wouldn’t possibly pay, but now with this line, on this day, nothing could move him. \u201cThere is nothing any could offer that would cause me to let you cross this line,\u201d he rebuked.
\n\u201cFeh, be this way you fool,\u201d the snake hissed. \u201cI could have given you all the money in the world, made you a god among the stars, granted any wish.\u201d
\n\u201cI have no wish, only the will to see this line is not crossed.\u201d
\nThe snake slithered to the side, for the line was only as long as the man could draw it, and went past, coming back around to stand behind the man. \u201cThere now I am on this side, and what did you accomplish, nothing.\u201d
\n\u201cYou may have reached the other side, but it remains true that you didn’t cross my line, merely circumvented it.\u201d
\n\u201cSo you are useless you admit, a mere pebble in my path.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd if there were a thousand men beside me?\u201d The man questioned,
\n\u201cThen I would walk around them to.\u201d
\n\u201cBut a thousand thousand, each with a line in sequence stretching around the world?\u201d
\n\u201cThen I would find one that could be bribed.\u201d
\n\u201cYou couldn’t cross my line, what leads you to believe you could cross any.\u201d
\n\u201cBah, I waste my time I am already past you, and you cannot stop me if you hold the line.\u201d
\n\u201cI have but one purpose, to hold the line.\u201d So the snake stormed away leaving the beach once again peaceful and undisturbed. The man stood there watching the tide rise.
\nA bull approached, pure black and glistening with sweat. Muscles rippled under it’s skin, it was as tall as the man, and many times more powerful. Horns curved out to either side, as thick as the mans fist, and with deadly points. \u201cStep aside,\u201d the bull bellowed.
\n\u201cI can’t, this is my line and none may cross it.\u201d
\n\u201cI have crossed many such lines, and trampled stronger men then you.\u201d
\n\u201cYou will have to trample me as well, I will not be moved.\u201d
\nThe bull roared and charged forward. The man did his best to fend it away with his stick, but the bull would turn and make another run, each time caring less for what little pain the man could inflict with the stick. The man plunged the stick into the sand panting.
\n\u201cHave you given up yet? Fall to the ground, and you will be spared the horns,\u201d the bull said, shaking his head to make clear the danger of the horns.
\nThe man stood firm, and with bellow the bull ran at him. The bull expected the man to dodge away to the left or right, as all whom he had trampled before had, but the man would not move. So the horns landed to either side of his chest, and couched themselves below his armpits. The bull was enraged, and with a twist of his neck sent the man flying over him. This saved him from trampling so the man escaped from the encounter relatively unharmed, having landed on the soft sand. \u201cThere and now I am past, and it is for naught but luck that you still breath,\u201d the bull crowed.
\nThe man returned to the stick where it marked the line, and redrew the trampled line. \u201cYou may have crossed the line, but I did not allow it.\u201d
\n\u201cNo man can stand against my strength, you accomplish nothing standing there, wasting your life.\u201d
\n\u201cBut if I had a thousand man standing behind me?\u201d
\n\u201cThen I would trample each of you.\u201d
\n\u201cBut if they were not armed with a simple stick like I, but instead had each had sharp sword?\u201d
\n\u201cThen I would gather my friends and a thousand bulls would make short work of your army.\u201d
\n\u201cBut which one of you would go first, I think you would find no volunteers in the herd of bulls.\u201d
\n\u201cBah, I waste my time I am already past you, and you cannot stop me if you hold the line.\u201d
\n\u201cI have but one purpose, to hold the line.\u201d So the bull stormed away, leaving the beach once again peaceful and undisturbed. The man stood there watching the tide rise.
\nA bird approached, beautiful with all the colours of the tropics. It circled over head before landing in front of the man. \u201cWhat is the point of this line?\u201d
\n\u201cI will not allow anyone past it,\u201d the man answered.
\n\u201cBut I flew over it many times before, even just now I crossed it while circling.\u201d
\n\u201cI cannot stop you from flying over it, for it is not within my power but I care little for what I cannot do.\u201d
\n\u201cSo you will let the birds fly across, and the insects crawl beneath.\u201d
\n\u201cPerhaps below is an insect with its own line, and above you will find another bird holding you behind it’s line.\u201d
\n\u201cI think not, it is not the nature of such creatures to hold the line, only fools such as yourself do.\u201d
\n\u201cI warn you to not try and cross the line within my reach, back away and be high in the sky before you try to cross. I will stop those I can, and in doing so know I have given it my all.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy not abandon this fools quest, the tide is rising, and if you follow me I can lead you to a paradise, a place of honeyed milk, and ease, where the thought of lines will not come to you.\u201d
\n\u201cIf I forgot this line, I would forget myself. I have committed all my will to this, and have none left to be swayed by honeyed words. I have but one purpose to hold the line.\u201d
\n\u201cVery well.\u201d The bird flapped it’s wings, and took to the air passing over the line high above the man, leaving the beach once again peaceful and undisturbed. The man stood there watching the tide rise.
\nThe tide rose higher till it washed away the line. The man redrew it, but with every wave it was washed away. Soon the waters were so high that they covered the line always. No matter how deeply the man dug the line the constant motion of the water would slowly erode it. A fish, with plain grey scales, and without any defining feature that would let someone determine its species, approached the line. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d
\n\u201cI’m holding the line.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat line?\u201d The fish swam down. \u201cIs this supposed to be a line, this indent?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy not go further back to where the tide hasn’t reached, surely that would serve your purpose better.\u201d
\n\u201cThis is not the first line I have drawn, many times before I’ve done this. Each time when the tide rose I pulled away and found another place further back to draw the line.\u201d
\n\u201cSo do that again.\u201d
\n\u201cThis is my last line, perhaps I grow tired of retreating, or the land back further is too rocky for my liking, both are true I suppose. I will remain here.\u201d
\n\u201cBut the line cannot be seen below the water, I can barely even be seen where it was on close inspection.\u201d
\n\u201cTrue, but the tide as it comes in, it must again come out. If that takes a day then I will stay here waiting for that. Even if it takes a decade I will remain.\u201d
\n\u201cYou are a man you cannot stay in the waters for so long a time.\u201d
\n\u201cI will hold the line, and when I die my bones will mark the spot, so that those who come after will know someone else held the line.\u201d
\n\u201cThen you are a fool, and I will be on my way.\u201d The fish swam past, but the mans hand reached out and caught it.
\n\u201cJust because you can no longer see the line, doesn’t mean I do not know where it is, or that it means any less. I have but one purpose, to hold the line.\u201d
\nThe man flung the fish away, and held the line that only he could still see.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The man stood on the beach. The beach belonged to him as much as any man could own anything. There he reached out with a stout stick, and drew a line in the sand. \u201cNo one will cross this line, this is where I will stand, and none shall be allowed to pass.\u201d He watched … [DO NOT CLICK]<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"entry","1":"post","2":"publish","3":"author-anonymous","4":"post-557","6":"format-standard","7":"category-slush"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/557","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=557"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/557\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":567,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/557\/revisions\/567"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=557"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=557"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=557"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}