March 10, 2017

The air was heavy. A grey smoke rose from the ground, its ascent seeming to intensify rather than disperse it.

“There is a temple in Kyoto, Japan,” said a male voice. “Constructed of wood. Over the years each of its beams, each plank in its flooring, each paper screen door has been meticulously replaced as part of necessary maintenance. ¬†At what point did it cease to be the original temple?”

“Ridiculous,” answered the woman. “It has never ceased to be the temple. A temple is not mere matter.”