(WP) Forgotten Gods

(WP) Forgotten Gods

               Once, I
was a being of unimaginable power. I was able to wield the very power of life,
of creation, like a weapon. The oceans rose at a mere flick of my fingers, and
storms stirred in my very blood. But that was so long ago, back when chaos
itself reigned the world.

               Now, I’m
a freaking cashier at Costco, getting screamed at by a middle-aged mom named
Karen over a damn coupon.

               Back in
the old days, a mere dirty look from me would be enough to make a mortal
crumble, literally.

               “I’m
afraid that your coupon has expired, ma’am,” I repeat, wishing that I could
snap my fingers and obliterate this terrible, awful woman. Is it my lunch break
yet? On days like today, I miss my former existence, and how my siblings and I
ruled the earth, and its elements. It’s a deep, throbbing ache that’s near
impossible to ignore, and I grit my teeth, trying not to let my annoyance show
on my face.

               “But it
says that I can buy one, get one free—” The woman insists, impatiently shaking her
bangs out of her face. Her kid is in the cart, sucking down a sugary liquid
that’s an unpleasant neon shade of green.

               “Yes,
ma’am. Through yesterday,” I reply, feeling the plastic smile that I wear for this
underpaying job turn brittle, more like a grimace. “You came to shop a day too
late.”

               I feel
like a tape recorder, or one of those old-school voicemail machines, on repeat
until the end of time.

               Thankfully,
I’m saved from this awful woman by my boss, Roger, who, under any other
circumstance, is a douchebag. But I’ve never been happier to see the guy as he comes
up behind me and flicks my light off.

               “Timothy,
head to your lunch break, I’ll take care of her.” He smirks at me and winks,
and I don’t need to be told twice, absorbed in memories of the past.

               See, we
could have, and would have, kept our power, if we hadn’t gotten greedy. Never
mind that our power had been rooted in darkness, blood, and death. Gods we
were, but we’d forgotten about the humans we ruled, and their discontent. It
didn’t matter; does a human being think of the deaths of ants?

               But the
sparks of revolution fanned into a flame that consumed us all. The humans
tricked us into leaving our godly plane, trapping us in human vessels and killing
us. We were reborn in a modern age where we, and all of the other deities of
old, had long since been forgotten. And we had to make a living somehow.

               I feel especially
pathetic as I buy some hot soup and a dinner roll and take it to the breakroom.

               Once, I
split open the sky and made worlds of naught but air and a few droplets of
blood. My siblings and I were capable of creating life, and taking it, in an
instant.

               But
everyone knows that even gods can fall from the sky.

**