‘The Devil is not evil, but he does stand for all the temptations of the material world around us. We can so easily be chained by our own desires, obsessions and inner fears that we lose sight of what we need to do in life.’
He was never usually one to listen to those silly tarot card readings but this one little thing seemed to perk up his interest. The red-head sighed as he picked up his oddly-shaped guitar and sat down beneath his usual tree in his usual spot.
Temptations.
Did they really have any temptations in that little town? No, not really. Maybe one of his temptations would be that he would go get a drink every night from the bar and keep a silent eye on the cute blonde, Muffy, who would help Griffin out.
But she seems head over heels for him, so the bard would never think of making any suave moves upon the woman. But she should really cover those legs of hers.
Temptations. Love or Lust?
Would it be in the category of sins if he caught himself walking up the hill late at night and just sat by the fountain, trying to listen for a simple tune coming from those halls of the villa from the piano? Was it for the piano or for the musician? Gustafa sighed as he strummed a sour note on his guitar, letting his hand droop from the strings.
Temptations. Was he jealous? Envious?
Impossible. Such a carefree life, he led. He had the best life. Would that be considered vanity? To be so overly indulged in yourself. No. That was Rock. Not him.
But the gypsy was right, one would suppose, in the tarot reading. But not for Gustafa. He was not obsessed with his own desires. Nor did he fear his inner fears or lose sight of what he needed to do in life. But it was getting him no where. No where but under this tree with a guitar and a simple word or two.
So maybe; just maybe, he had to put a little temptation in his life. Maybe there are a few temptations in this little village. Maybe he would have to tempt the woman of his dreams. Maybe he would have to tempt to get the snot beaten out of him. Maybe he would have to live a little on the edge. Starting, firstly, with that musician on the hill.
Gustafa put down his guitar and quietly stood up from his spot under the tree and just leaned against the bark and just stared up beyond the bar and beyond the hill. Maybe, he would have to take hold of his desire and just lose his way.
Just once.
{{This is just a quick little thing I wrote up. Feel free to mock it, love it, hate it, whatever you like to it. (: }}
