This week's 300-word flash fiction is inspired by:
Tzuzan ignored the cold. The mountain stream he sat in was icy despite it being high summer. Meditation helped with this, but mostly his focus was held by the splashing water. He knew they would be coming soon, anxious yet fearful of what future the water revealed. The water told him they had no future. As he poured it from one vessel to another, he caught glimpses in the glints of sunlight it reflected.
At first, these were visions of tomorrow within the walls of the monastery. He saw Brother Ahn stub his toe on the rough paving stones in the courtyard. When he told Brother Bekara not to leave his ovens unattended the young man sniffed and walked away. The monastery went without bread that day.
“Coincidence,” they said. “Daydreams.” So, he kept quiet when he foresaw the fire devour the town at the foot of the mountain. But when he pre-witnessed the Earth shake deep below the ocean and the coastal townsfolk swept away by the tsunami, he broke his silence. Abbot Mastara believed him, once the disaster came to pass. The mixture of awe and fear that Tzuzan saw in his eyes chilled him more than the icy stream ever could.
Afraid that he was causing these escalating troubles, Tzuzan stayed away from the stream for a week, a week plagued by dreams of dripping water, from which he awoke exhausted. The pull of the water was just too strong. As the water splashed in the sunlight, his vision cleared and he saw a field of stars twinkling in their familiar constellations, except for one that was out of place. As he watched in horror, the rogue star grew, coming closer and closer until it revealed itself as a tumbling, mountain of iron and rock.