He looked more closely. There amongst the cobwebs and lost keys and gobbets of furred potato fallen from the stove top, he saw a shape that was decidedly un-ratlike. He moved the torch, and its beam fell onto the body of a creature whose skin was the colour and texture of a peeled plum: the small, but instantly recognisable form of a devil. It had a pinched face moulded from pure hatred, pointed ears and two livid red horns. Its mouth was a lipless slash and its eyes yellow and full of loathing. The creature’s tiny body was raw, as if flayed, and two wings of almost transparent fleshiness could be seen furled behind it. A tail curled from the base of its spine and ended, as he imagined devils’ tails generally did, in a point shaped like an arrowhead. The devil’s hands were bony, the fingers long and ending in clawlike nails. Its feet were similar and, George noted, it had exceptionally long toes.Read the rest of Will Buckingham's short story here: George's Devil.
Will also keeps an archive of his philosophical and spiritual thoughts at thinkBuddha.org. Perhaps as a fitting metaphor, it sits at present in a sort of suspended animation. Some of his posts I have enjoyed so far include:
Meditating and knowing
Something is happening here, but you don't know what it is...
Buddhist? Buddhish? Non-Buddhist?
The Demon-Haunted World