Stories Told Through Symbols

I see a thick mist before me, from which a white snake emerges. Its long body glides through the air, undulating and sinking back into the mist. As the fog disperses, I see a traveler—an exhausted man trudging along a dusty road. All around him is desolation, until he spots an oasis in the distance. His pace quickens with joy as he heads toward the city.

At the city gate, a guard stands watch. He warmly greets the traveler and hands him new clothes. The traveler may enter only if he cleanses himself and changes attire. He dons the new coat and steps through the gate. Inside, the city is alive with celebration—music and singing fill the air. The intoxicating scent of flowers drifts toward him from all directions. People carry a serpent made of colorful paper on long poles, waving them to mimic its flight above their heads. Stalls on every corner offer delicious treats. One offers him roasted pig, another a goblet of wine. The traveler eats and drinks his fill, gathers as much food and drink as his satchel can carry, and heads back to the gate to continue his journey. But now, guards flank the entrance on either side, refusing to let him leave. The path to the city had been open, but now he is its prisoner.

The traveler reproaches himself for his foolishness, but it is too late. He wanders the streets, searching for an answer—how to escape the city that has become his prison. He encounters smiling and sorrowful faces, the wealthy and the poor, yet no one knows the answer to his question. He returns to the square. The people still dance with the colorful paper dragon, but now he sees something else. A real white snake floats in the air. Its long, luminous body weaves among the people, brushing against them now and then. Is it real? Or is it not? No one else in the market sees it. Now the snake glides directly toward the traveler. He feels its body rub against his coat. Frozen with terror, he cannot move. Then he notices a young gypsy woman watching him.

„Did you see the snake? The real one?“ she asks.

The traveler nods, and she smiles knowingly. She beckons him to follow, and he hesitantly trails behind her into a dark alleyway.

After a while, a light appears in the distance, leading them to an abandoned courtyard where gypsies dance around a fire, singing and playing music. He notices a young gypsy man who exchanges a glance with the woman before fixing his gaze on the traveler. The gypsy waves his hand, and the singing and laughter cease abruptly. Only the crackling of the fire remains in the silence. All eyes are now on the traveler. The young gypsy begins clapping rhythmically, and the others join in.

„Jump over the fire,“ he commands the traveler.

The traveler hesitates, but the rhythmic clapping and piercing gazes draw him into a trance. He stares into the fire, runs, and leaps over the licking flames. Immediately, he regrets his recklessness, frantically patting at his smoldering trousers and hissing in pain from his burned calf. The gypsies burst into laughter, and anger rises in the traveler for being deceived. But the young gypsy does not laugh. He waves his hand, and the laughter dies instantly. The gypsies turn solemn, their faces reflecting both compassion and unease.

The young gypsy waves his hand again, and everything vanishes—no fire, no gypsies, no city. In the utter darkness, only the two of them remain—man against man, traveler against gypsy. The gypsy holds a long chain, twirling it in his hands. He crouches like a cat before a leap, preparing to fight. The traveler is terrified. He searches for something to defend himself, but there is only darkness. Suddenly, the gypsy lashes the chain at him, striking with such force that the traveler cries out and falls to his knees. The gypsy approaches from behind, wraps the chain around his head, and begins to strangle him. The traveler struggles in vain to free himself. He cannot breathe, and life slowly slips away. The chain tightens around his throat until, suddenly, his head separates from his body and floats upward. And yet, he still perceives, still sees the gypsy before him. The gypsy waves his hand, and they are back at the fire. The gypsies clap in rhythm, dancing around the flames, and the traveler’s headless body joins in the jubilant dance.

Once more, the gypsy bids him jump over the fire. The headless body sprints and effortlessly soars over the flames. At that moment, a new head appears between his shoulders. The gypsy smiles in satisfaction and points at a weathered wall. When he touches it, the wall parts to reveal two paths—one red, leading to the right, and one blue, to the left.

„Choose,“ he urges the traveler. „Both paths will lead you to your destination.“

„But each leads in a different direction!“ the traveler protests. „Only one can be the right one.“

The gypsy smirks. „Both will take you there, as long as you walk far enough. Look closely.“

Indeed, in the distance, the two paths curve toward one another until they merge into one. The red and blue blend, forming a violet road.

„And where does this path lead?“ the traveler asks.

„To yourself,“ the gypsy whispers. He waves his hand, and the gypsies disappear. Only the crackling fire remains on the empty street.

The traveler hears voices and music in the distance and makes his way back to the marketplace. He is the same traveler and yet he is not. He walks upright, a spark in his eyes as if the fire still dances within them. He returns to the market and once more sees the majestic white snake among the people. The snake sees him too and glides straight toward him. This time, the traveler does not flinch. The snake coils around him, and he gently touches its smooth, warm skin. Then, the snake traces a circle in the air, swishes past him, and passes through his body.

The traveler heads toward the city gate. Beyond it, the wasteland is gone. Trees line the road, meadows bloom, and the fresh wind carries the scent of flowers. The guard at the gate steps aside and bows deeply. No one stops him—he may leave whenever he wishes.

He turns back and still sees the white snake drifting among the people. He hesitates, ready to depart, when he notices the sunlight illuminating the treetops with purple blossoms. Only now does he realize that lilacs bloom all around him. This is the intoxicating scent he had sensed all along.

„I will stay in the city. This is my place,“ he tells the guard.

The guard only remarks, „Lilacs thrive here, but they will wither again, sir.“

The traveler smiles. „Then I will wait for them to bloom once more. And in the meantime, I will tell people the story of the white snake. Perhaps one day, they will see it too.“

Thank you for visiting and I look forwards to seeing you at the next story.

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