The Anchorite

I woke up today with a story fully formed in my head.  I went through it as I lay groggy in bed, and then I got up and typed it out, all 3,000 words without stopping or distraction.  There was no need to work at it; my subconscious spat it out fully formed.  I am relieved, I have not been doing so much of this as it requires.  I'm going to go to the shops now to buy some breakfast (it's 17:22...)

The story's about a monk in love with a girl.  He gets found out, repents, drives deep into religious fervour and ends up as an anchorite sealed in a cell at a country church.  The girl visits him and turns out to visit a number of men in exchange for gifts.  Eventually the anchorite reaches redemption.  The hermit character from other stories turns up in part of this process.  I wanted to make sure he was in this story so there could be no confusion that the two characters were the same, and there was something perfect for him to do, so my subconscious let him do it.  Also in the story are some allusions to the life of St. Anthony, which I want to use more fully at a future date.  I've just seeded the groundwork to make that possible.  I have a clear idea what this monk/anchorite character and the girl are going to do at the finale, so that's very positive.  There's a strong theme about the nature of fate developing, which I suppose is the "moral of the tale".

If I were to psychoanalyse this, it is clear that the story is about my time as a hermit on an uninhabited island.  It's also about my relationship with asceticism.  But that's not important; what's important is this artefact of fiction that has been produced by this process, and any relationship that might develop with any audience that might read it.