“It’s all gone wrong and I don’t want it anymore.”
The speaker is a well-dressed gentleman standing before me. While it is hard to tell his age, he is certainly not young. Yet, somehow, this enhances his sharply chiselled features and clear sky-blue eyes.
He is a leader with vision, but right now he is sad. Depressed even.
“But you made it?” I begin, not quite sure where I am going with this, “You made it in your own reflection, how can you discard it? And do what afterwards? Build another one? Mope around and feeling sorry for yourself?”
He sighs and casts his gaze away from me.
Below us the sun is rising over the Atlantic and the crisp, clear shrieks from seagulls can be heard. I can smell the salt in the air and I imagine all the sleeping people beginning stirring in their beds as the morning rush of daily life begins again.
“You know, I never really had a plan for it? I just kinda wanted to put it all together and see what it would look it. Perhaps I was just fighting the same boredom that we all fight?”
He is right. Sometimes the boredom itself can stretch out longer than all of time and you will do anything just to take your mind off it. Anything. That is our real curse, though few know it.
“I know it’s got flaws. I know so better than most…” I linger and then shake my head and continue, “But there really are some beautiful angles to look at it from. Surely you see that? There are redeeming features in all of them and such unique stories to tell too.”
“Beautiful angles? Redeeming features? Unique stories? They have so few of them that one has to ask whether it is really worth saving all of it just for them?”
It is my turn to sigh. He has a point. How do you save just the good parts when they exist in parallel with the bad?
“Well, if I cannot change your mind, why not just give it to me?” I mumble, half-heartedly.
His gaze snaps back to me. I can see him thinking.
And then he shrugs and turns to walk away.
“Sure, you can have it, Lucifer.”
And then God walked away from the world of man.