Who knows how I have been alive for? Ever since the religion was formed? Probably.
I had done a lot of things as my time as a god. Sure I never played a big role in the anything major, not like the gods of higher standing, but I contributed. The world would not be as beautiful as it is now if it wasn’t for my efforts and the efforts of the stronger gods. So to be given an expiration date on a seemingly immortal being really put into perspective on your own life.
At first, I panicked. I was scared, frightened, and all of those other words that describe the feeling of death. The other gods never cared about me, saying that my job could easily be taken over by another. No matter how much I pleaded and begged, they didn’t care enough to help me.
Well, all except for one. Ironically it was the god of death himself.
As I cried and wept at my impending doom, the Death arrived. Not to reap whatever god abilities I had left, like I previously thought, but to give me a glimpse of who was, essentially, my last follower.
He was elderly, the eldest of his family. Despite how big and successful his family was, he hardly ever see them now. Once his wife was by her side but she lost to a medical battle over ten years ago. He worked at that old farm that was passed down through centuries of family traditions. He would often from dawn to dusk. But these days, he hardly ever had the strength to continue and so the garden was also dying. He looked sad, lonely, and hopeful.
The very next day, I arrived at his farm.
Of course, he was shocked by my godlike appearance. But that was put behind us when he welcomed me into his home.
We talked like old friends. We laughed like old friends. We ate, sung, and worked on that little farm. Jokes were said, songs of old were sung, melodies I haven’t heard in years. Memories were shared and stories were told. No boundaries were set, no boundaries were established. Nothing but the world around us and the two joyful people. From the distance, it just seemed like we were having the time of our lives.
For all we cared, we did.
There were no tears of sadness when the day finally came. We both sat on the porch and looked out into the majestic sunset. My body fading and his heart slowing. But neither one of us was remorseful or sad. We both sat there, surrounded in the sound of our bliss. Overlooking the sea of our hard work. A garden once thought to have died, now revived.
I could have found new followers to extend my life. But if I was going to be replaced anyway, I might as well have made my last follower happy in his dying days. That was my duty as a god, and I fulfilled it.
A minor god of fruits and vegetation and a once lonely elderly man both sailed off to the land of paradise. Leaving the living world behind them.
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