the Stone, the Mirror and the Hedgehog

Once upon a time, there was a Stone. He lived alone, a pebble, his rounded skin enclosing mystery not only to others, but also himself. He lived mute, a boulder, his voice smothered in the lattice of sial within him. He lived sightless, a rock, his only eye a cataract glossed by the rain.

Within him, a brain of basalt and quartz learned time, touch and the content of himself. He knew of the Gravel upon which he lay, his brothers and sisters. He knew of the Winds, his Chance and Destiny, dictating his story, granting and robbing all that surrounded him, yet never touching his midst. He knew of the Lake, whose waves slowly gnawed his substance away and would one day devour him, would one day know him inside out and so would he know her.

But the Winds, envious, took the Stone in their hands and threw him into the Lake. As he fell, the blazing brushing of the Winds seared his cecity away and let him behold the Lake, a round Mirror. As he touched her surface, the Mirror broke into a myriad pieces and he saw himself as he was: not a single soul but a fragmented phantom, a hundred shards, a million grains of sand. As he watched himself breaking he became thus, a Stone shattered into a thousand thorns, not dry, but carrying a Lake within himself.

Thus was the Hedgehog born. Watch your reflection in his spines, a plain looking glass to your mind...