A Monks confessions

this is just another attempt to do a little flow writing. Enjoy...

The electric alarm clock woke him up. Kyle struggled to get out of bed, the alarm clock showed 04:30; it was half an hour before the first Zazen. He scratched his newly shaved head. It felt like yesterday, but today it was a year ago. A year ago he’d been a confused young backpacker. Now he was a novice monk in a Japanese Zen Buddhist monastery. His mind started drifting away, away from the temple walls. Pictures of Tokyo´s airport and a young woman in a sexy black dress entered his mind for a brief second, and started swirling around. He felt the tingling sensation in his body and a warm feeling rushed down towards his lower body. Breathe. He took a deep breath and skillfully brought his mind back to the present moment. The pictures started to fade. Donk Donk Donk. The wooden plank, which was supposed to resemble a bell called him to Zazen. He quickly washed his head, put on his black robes and hurried to the meditation hall. He was already late. The air was damp but had a freshness about it that was hard to define. He saw three bold heads appear from a building near him. He quietly greeted the senior monks and made way for them.
He knew his place now. It had been a struggle for him in the beginning. He recalled the words of his master “A wild mind must be tamed with discipline and love”.
The hall was cold, and he could feel the cold planks underneath his feet as he stepped into the meditation hall, left leg first, to honor the ancient traditions. His master and his masters represented the unbroken lineage all the way back to Buddha.
He sat down on his Zafu in half lotus position, and listened for the signal. Dong. The sound of the bell faded out and became a humming sound. He started to focus. For a few minutes he was okay, but then the girl in the black dress came to haunt his thoughts once again. He gently focused his attention on his breath, but the vision of her was still terribly clear. It had been a passionate affair. She was a writer for New York Times Magazine, sent there to investigate. Damn, he almost said it out loud. He tried to focus. The room was hot and sweat dripped down his forehead now. He was breathing heavily to control himself. The way she moved captured him completely, her hips swayed through the air, she moved like a goddess.