A Visitor

A night encounter that asks what it means to simply be

A quiet visitor from the wild edges of the mind.

Mario went to bed.
The wind whispered through the curtains.
Somewhere in the back of the house, a door creaked open.

He froze.

A slow sound of paws on the floor.
Then from the dark, golden eyes.

Mario:
Who... who’s there?

Lion:
Do not be afraid.
I’m just passing by.

Mario:
You... you’re a lion! What are you doing in my room?

Lion:
Taking a walk.
A night walk.
Observing the cosmos.

Mario:
The cosmos? What are you observing out there?

Lion:
Other creatures.
Their patterns.
Their strange ways of being.

Mario:
That’s... wow.
Do you know what you are?

Lion:
That’s a funny question.
Tell me, Mario,
if you didn’t have a mirror,
would you know how you look?

Mario:
No, I guess not.

Lion:
Then I don’t know how I look either.
Not because I don’t have eyes,
but because I don’t have a mirror.

Mario:
Wait, I’ll show you.
Here, look, this is you.

Mario brings a mirror and holds it up. The lion stares, quiet for a while.

Lion:
Oh…
I look different than you, human.
All this time I thought I looked the same.

Mario:
But don’t you see other lions?

Lion:
Who are “lions”?

Mario:
Other animals like you.
Same shape, same mane.

Lion:
We don’t give names.
We recognize each other by qualities.
By scent, by rhythm, by heart.

Mario:
Do you go to school?

Lion:
Yes.
We learn from nature.
The whole world is our school.

Mario:
Do you have some skills?

Lion:
Haven’t you seen me in circus,
in movies,
where I show my skills for your applause?

Mario:
But you’re a creature of instinct.

Lion:
Who isn’t?
If I left you in the jungle,
in the hands of nature,
you too would become
a creature of instinct.

Give us a home and love,
we become your pets,
just like your other furry cousins.

Mario:
Then don’t eat other animals.

Lion:
If eating other animals makes me bad,
then don’t eat fried chicken next time.

Mario:
I think you can’t think as deep as I do.

Lion:
If you could read my mind,
you could say that.
But you can’t.
So please,
don’t try to define me.

Mario:
But you don’t have past regrets
or future ambitions.

Lion:
That’s your speculation.
I cry.
I laugh.
I get angry.
I know happiness.

I don’t have a fridge,
so I don’t store food for years,
but I regret,
I think,
I plan,
I execute.

Mario:
Wait...
I thought lions can’t talk.
But you’re talking.

Lion:
I’m not talking.
I’m not even standing in your room.

Mario:
Then where are you?

Lion:
I’m in your brain.
You can’t read my mind,
but I can influence your thoughts.

Now tell me,
who is more powerful?

Silence. Then a soft roar fades like a sigh.

Mario wakes up.
The room is calm again.
He sees a picture of a lion hanging on the wall.
He smiles.
For a moment,
he thinks the lion smiles back too.

---

Echoes from the Dream

Someone once asked,
“Does a lion know that it is a lion?”

Maybe the lion doesn’t.
Maybe it doesn’t need to.
Maybe it just is,
the way stars don’t ask what they are,
they just burn.

And maybe we humans,
with all our words and mirrors,
are still learning how to simply be.

---

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