Never hurts to have a little Led for the head every now and
then, but this isn’t about rock and roll.
For years I would occasionally write a story within my
posts. This wasn’t very often, but I created a few short stories that basically
went nowhere except they had a start and finish and were fun. Basically I would
take any wild idea that hit my head write a few paragraphs on what I felt at
the moment and then in the next blog post would add to it, not necessarily with
a plan. I would reread what I wrote previously and just pick up where I left
off creating the story as I went. So over four or more posts some semblance of
a story existed. There were even a couple I liked and if I ever want to spend
some time I could go back and edit them and see what I have. Actually somewhere
in lost computers over time I think there is one story I tried to polish up so
to speak.
Recently I thought about asking readers to give me ideas to
start another one. I say this because years ago at work someone that knew I try
to write gave me an idea for a story. Just a one sentence thought. I actually
finished that and have made attempts to edit and publish it. As of right now,
no luck, but that story is much further along in my short stories than what I
wrote in this blog. Now there are other short stories where I also made effort
and am trying to get published also, but looking back at them they need work.
Right now, though in my hazy and lazy days I am working on four books
simultaneously with two working drafts on my computer where I actually spend
time putting words on a computer screen. One of these days I may get ambitious
and really finish them up. Yet I thought it was always fun just to write away with
absolutely no path in advance, just sit and type and see where the words take
you. Again, I thought about asking readers for ideas, but while thinking about
doing this again I was reading another book when an idea sort of popped in my
head. The idea shocked me because it is not something I would usually entertain.
And since it is not something I would usually entertain, I am going to story
blog it.
Again, the rules are no set ending, no real rhyme or reason
for what is about to happen and over the next few blog posts on whatever topic
I write I intend to add to the story until it finds its own conclusion. I will
reread the previous post then just add to it based on where my thoughts for the
day lead me. So without further ado, here we go:
The two Gods stood face to face. Years ago they were loved
as the leaders of the Gods. They were married, celebrated by both the Gods and
mortals alike. This was the before times. Now the war of the Gods had boiled
down to the two of them. They didn’t remember why the war started, just that
they were what was left of a grand epoch where rule over the mortals was blissful,
quiet, serene and entertaining. The mortals were created to serve the Gods, but
also so their petty lives would be theatre. Over time and these two Gods definitely
couldn’t remember why jealousy, the pettiness they enjoyed watching permeating
through them, boredom maybe took over their world. And over time these emotions grew into hate
between the Gods and they destroyed each other in a brutal war that destroyed
their world. Now since the mortals were given their own world it remained. The Gods
so consumed by their war had forgotten about the mortals and over time left
them to their own devices so the worship of the Gods had become ancient
stories. Except for one mortal, who being curious had climbed up into the world
of the Gods to find out what happened.
And with this backdrop the two remaining Gods faced each
other with overwhelming levels of both hate and love bubbling up inside
them. They had once loved each other
unconditionally, now for reasons they no longer knew they hated each other with
the same level of intensity of their love. Yet for a brief moment the love came
back and they made love so passionately the ground shook, the mountains felt
the shudder of them together, the waves of the oceans overwhelmed the shore and
at the height of their passion they stabbed each other and both feel apart
dead.
The mortal wasn’t sure, but looked around and so no other
Gods. Still on unsure footing, legs shaking noticeably, the smell of death in
the air headed back to the world of the mortals.
As he walked along the plain that had been holy ground, the
ground that separated the two worlds of mortals and Gods, where the temples
were once bustling with humans bringing sacrifices to the Gods of food and wine,
where the people worshipped and praised the Gods, now lay half in ruins, still
standing at this point, but the finer trappings looted, the walls cracked, the
doors gone, the statues either broken or toppled over he ran into a friend of
his from his village.
The mortal was rummaging through the ruins looking for stones
for a wall around his house he was building.
The first mortal ran up to him and exclaimed the Gods are dead, the Gods
are dead. The second mortal looked at him curiously. Sir, what concern is it of
yours about the Gods. The Gods have not bothered us forever.
The first mortal was ecstatic, no it is more important, they
are dead, completely dead, I saw the King and Queen of the Gods kill each
other. He didn’t say what they were doing when they killed each other.
The second mortal now carrying a stone he hoped would work,
told his friend. Come home with me, let us drink some wine and relax. Do not
worry yourself over the Gods, and whatever you do, do not alert them to the
presence of us mortals anymore. It has been peaceful, no one needs to bring
sacrifices, the priests are all gone. We live in peace.
The first mortal seemed disheartened. He had witnessed
something well was it terrible, wonderful, unimportant or the most important
news ever, yet his friend was disinterested. How can something as important as
the Gods being dead not matter anymore?
To be continued
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