In need

The young man sat parked on the trail, peering down at the cane for a while.  Its user had already vanished down the path.  Neither he or the older man needed the cane, but he was tempted to pick it up to return it.  Or maybe he could use it himself...
The design was a long black cobra, each delicate scale etched into the wood as deep as ink on paper, he could feel just by looking how smooth the craftsmanship was.  The cane called to him, and because of that he feared it.
His hands knotted into themselves refusing to reach for the cane.  With measured caution he reached out his foot and kicked it away.  It coiled in its brief flight and clattered on the hard ground, nothing more than a walking stick still.  He began to turn away, but his eyes remained rooted to the staff.
Slowly... the staff picked itself up and walked its way to him, pulling his hands apart and fastening his fingers around the cobra's neck.  
Young Goodman Brown held his breath, wide eyed, stricken with absolute fear at what he had done.  But the staff knew that this was only the beginning of a walk down his destined road.




stay beautiful