Meditation Class

A modest rectangular room lined with tatami mats and low cushions, its single window admitting pale morning light through half-drawn blinds. A faint scent of cedar lingers in the still air, mingling with the quiet hiss of a small tabletop fountain. A single incense stick smolders in a corner brazier, its wood-sage aroma persistent but undistinctive. The wall clock ticks slowly, its second hand a distant metronome marking the hour. Cho-Je often passes this space on his evening route, its placid emptiness contrasting with the retreat's undercurrents of tension.