The Art of Killing Time

Who am I? I am myself. 

What am I doing here? Answering your questions of course.

Getting upset will get you nowhere. Perhaps if you asked the correct question, you would get the answer you seek.

Ah, why am I here? Now there is an interesting question that would take longer than you have to answer. Besides you do not look like the sort who enjoys stories.

Stories are the backbone of any civilization. Haven’t you ever wondered why storytellers are held in such high esteem? They are the holders of a people’s memory, the keepers of all life’s core lessons; a gifted storyteller can take you away to another place, another time.

Hm? No, I am not a true storyteller, one gifted naturally with the ability to hold an audience in thrall, although I have fulfilled this role on many occasions in order to survive. I know many stories, carefully memorized and retold according to the unwritten rules of storytelling. 

Ah, now there is one tale that I will only tell once. A tale of death and rebirth, of hopeless odds and a never ending quest. A story that I know is true because I was there. If I was a naive fool I might say it was my story. But no tale is ever just one person’s, and if it had to be labeled as such it would not be mine. This a story involving time itself, but if we are splitting hairs then it would be his story. 

Who’s that? 

Well, that is a far more complicated question than it first appears. The ‘who’ is easily answered, however the what that follows is not. I have been his companion for more years than you could easily grasp and even I still cannot fully answer that question. I am beginning to wonder if it is truly unanswerable. 

In any case the ‘what’ is unimportant, the question everyone asks incorrectly is why. A question so deeply linked to ‘what’ that many cannot separate the two.

What?

Oh no child, I will not tell you this tale. As I mentioned, I will only tell it once, today is not that day. 

Yes, I suppose I did get off topic. I believe I was answering the question of why I am here.

Creating a distraction of course. 

Did you have fun?

That’s good. Shall we then?

————

This is a strange little thing I’ve had floating in my head as an intro to my original fiction that ‘Play with me?’ takes place in. Since writing that my two muses (and main players) Odin and Raieth have been hounding me. I probably won’t be adding anything more to this on any kind of regular schedule. It may take months to get anything to where I want it. (Hell I only just settled on the name)

Internet cookies to anyone who gets the “my story” reference. I always hated that line, it’s so stupid.

Anyway, just figured I’d post this for shits’n’giggles *shrug*