I sit there looking at him, thinking that I’ve lost my mind, but won’t bother looking for it. He is sprawled in the leather wing-backed chair beside my desk; red-gold hair curling onto his shoulders, dark blue eyes, big white shirt, tight black riding breeches, soft black leather boots, the portrait of a nineteenth-century Count with a great tan. His lean 6 foot body is eerily translucent, on the verge of becoming solid. I wonder if everything I’ve written about him is real, afterall. The silence would be loud without his cultured English voice in my mind. I take a gulp of wine, certain that it’s only a dream…
Charles Sutton is the epitome of the perfect man. He’s the ghost whose stories I’ve been writing while I munch chocolate and drink wine. Some nights his words flow right into my mind. That particular night, we’re exploring sex, love and war. I try not to look over at the chair, and keep typing away at my keyboard. If he becomes solid, I’ll probably have a heart attack.
On sex, he says, “The act itself is desired for the sensation, much better than a good meal, but when it’s done; it’s gone.”
I ask, “What about love?”
He replies, “Well, that’s a horse of an entirely superior breed. Love is a flowing thing, an energy that resolves a myriad of mortal concerns. Like a spray cleaner, it simply dissolves negatives when used correctly. Most humans think of love as a feeling they have in the heart area. Not so. If people were to study that feeling, intend it to flow outward toward others, they would experience love as an energy flow. It is the universal solvent.”
“Then why do we have wars?” I wonder.
He laughs, “Because mortals have been carefully schooled over a millennia to oppose, rather than resolve, differing points of view.”
I think about the demons in his stories with whom he’s done battle, the humans that he’s destroyed and the fact that he’s said that he can harm or heal at his sole discretion.
“Yes,” he replies to my thoughts, “Shakespeare had a point:
‘Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing, end them.'”
“So, you’re saying that love doesn’t really conquer all?” I ask.
“No, I’m saying that humans, as a species, have not yet realized that there is no need for war; that love as an energy flow, could and would dissolve all harmful intent. It’s a question of evolution. For example, if you’re standing in the street when a hulking thug comes at you with an axe, and you’ve not learned to use love to dissolve his false intent; you’ll either have to run, or kill.”
“How exactly does one develop this ability?” I ask, and chance at look at him. He smiles at me and leans forward, almost touching me. I take a deep breath.
He replies, “That would depend on a person’s outlook. If you think you are your body and not merely occupying it for a limited time, the concept of managing energy flows may be unattainable until after death. If, on the other hand, you know that mind and body are all created by energy, that we live in a sea of energy, the task is not so difficult. Why not go back to the first book, my confession, the part where Mao Kee taught me how to be anything I want. Do those exercises with the rock, the tree and the flower.”
I opened my eyes.
For more Sutton, please go to the top of the page, bottom left corner of the picture, and click on “The Novels.”
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