Despite my great power I, like all beings, am beholden to the capricious whims of reality. And, much to my detriment and chagrin, perception is reality.

There was a time when I was worshipped as a god, tributes were made in my name, the sweet smoke of ritual sacrifice filled my lungs. Time, the unceasing and propulsive river that she is, flowed on, eroding my name, my followers, and thereby my powers. I became perceived as less than a god.

And so I fell.

But all was not lost. In the next age I was regarded as a benevolent and wise king. I ruled the lands with unquestioned power, but unprecedented grace. The Kingdom flourished and grew, tales of my generosity and acumen spread across the globe, an empire was built in my name. But Time, again, was a cruel mistress. Like the unrelenting sun, she shriveled and shrunk the bodies of my people, but spared me any sign of age. Soon the people rebelled, and perceived me as a demon from the depths of hell.

And so I too, was that.

But all was not lost. I was a devious and deceptive demon. I collected and coveted souls through deals both dastardly and daring. I lived at the cross-roads of desperation and depravity and those who sought me out knew that a deal with me brought bounty and blessings at a bargain. And that was so until Time, once again, foiled my dealings. Like a rapacious zealot, Time erected monuments to the new gods upon my very crossroads, she built glass towers which expanded high into the heavens that I had once ruled over. Soon people no longer sought my deals, I became part and parcel of the of the city; my once great crossroads were then named Prosperity Avenue and Progress Road. I was perceived as a vagabond, a vagrant, an insignificant and small tramp.

And so I too, was that.

And all was lost. I ruled over no land, not even that which I inhabited, unendingly ushered from one place to the next, unwanted, unwelcome. I collected tokens of treasure—one man’s trash—but feared thieves and wrongdoers both seen and unseen. I was forever seated but never rested, I was forever surrounded but always alone. Time, the Great Maestro, again, aimed to thwart me. As she conducted the epic funeral march of progress, my words were drowned out by the orchestral cacophony of the city. I was on the verge of unbecoming. I was nearly invisible, I was blending into the tapestry of the city. My powers and worth withered and decayed. For if perception is reality, there is no thing more dangerous than being unseen.

And then she saw me.

“Here, sir. I bought you this sandwich,” said the girl.

“Thank you,” I croaked. It had been a long time since I had spoken.

“Would you tell me a little about your life?” She asked. I was struck by her beauty both inside and out. It had been eons since I was regarded so tenderly, so mercifully.

And, for the first time in a long time, I smiled. I told her of my travels and triumphs. I impressed her with stories of my status as a powerful god; I regaled her with tales of my regal stature as a benevolent monarch; I startled her with recitals of my rapacious and miserly demonic dealings; I saddened her with stories from my new, lowly station.

As I spoke to her and recounted my acts, I could feel my power swell deep within. I sensed reality shifting, yet again, as I was perceived finally as the great and powerful being that I was.

But, alas, Time betrayed once more. Like a tyrannical director, she decided that it was time to cue the curtain to fall upon my final act and turn out the lights for good.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the girl said as she abruptly rose. Her voice was colored with worry. “I—I’m running late for an appointment. It was…interesting talking to you. Bye!” She said as she ran from my life. When she thought she was out of earshot, I heard her, above the roar of traffic, say, “that guy is fucking crazy.”

And so I too, was that.

r/InMyLife42Archive