Contravention
Sometimes, it was too much. Every memory and act that occurred, long forgiven, long processed, long settled in his mind, grew dislodged. Sometimes, the cool wall that compartmentalized his life, began to tremble. Sometimes, pebbles slipped lose, and just for a moment, the thoughts would rise, unbidden, to claw at his throat, to burn through the barrier, to spill their way into his heart.
Sometimes, it was all he could do to survive the onslaught.
It was a contravention, an action that offended against the law of his mind, the ruling that he would be calm, that he would achieve the peace expected of him.
It was a contravention against the ruling of his honour and he would not stand for it.
Leonardo took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. Pushing himself to his feet, he decided on tea. As he passed his brother in the hall, he worked to piece together what had tumbled down.
"Good meditation, bro?"
He paused, "Yes, it was satisfactory."
And as his brother snorted, Leonardo firmly pushed the pebbles back into place.
