The Rebirth And The Odyssey – Short Story

The suns rays ripped through the windows like knives cutting through cake. Hawthorn tightly closes his eyes while covering them his forearm. He feels the hot rays lash at him like a serpents tongue, each assault more volatile than the last until there is no longer pain, only the memory of what pain was. It’s within this moment that he realises something else has taken place, and he opens his eyes to find himself standing alone in the flight deck of his mighty Icarus.
“Beautiful, isn’t it,” a voice says. Hawthorn spins around to face an unusual looking man who sits proudly in the captain’s chair.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in my seat!”
The man laughs heartily, clapping his hands together with enthusiasm before glaring sternly towards Hawthorn.
“I am sitting in my seat not yours, and who I am is inconsequential at this point in time. But if you require something to help you sleep at night you can call me god,” he says with a broad smile.
“D-D-D-Does that mean I’m d-d-dead?”
God screws his face up and leaps from the seat. “Not exactly, another few minutes and you’d be a right gonner for sure. But that’s before I decided to play well, play myself and interfere in the whole life ending bullshit. You now, keeping it real and all that jazz or whatever the kids say these days.
“S-S-So what happens from here?”
God smiles, “An excellent question my good man. Have you heard of Odysseus and his quest to return home after the Trojan War?”
“W-W-What are you talking about?” Hawthorn hisses through clenched teeth.
“The Odyssey my friend, ten years to journey home where less that a handful of months it should’ve taken. Surely a captain of your rank knows the story.”
“S-Sure, I know what you’re talking about. I just don’t understand why you’re talking about!”
God smiles broader. “It’s about the journey, one that waits for you and your crew of misfits. This place is between what you’d call life and death. A place that offered redemption for those seeking it, or those I see worthy and I deem you worthy dear captain. So take it, and journey out towards the horizon, find your way home, become legend.”
Hawthorn turns and looks out towards the endless eons of space and feels his bottom lip tremble.
“I’m dead, right?”
“Not yet captain,” God says as he rest a hand on Hawthorn’s shoulder and squeezes. “Out there is a chance at rebirth. Time here moves in micro moments, while your body hangs in the balance. Your journey may take decades or even centuries, but that matters little in the scheme of all creation. Go, create a new legend. Show Homer that his words were that of a child’s tale compared to yours. Become Odysseus and write your own nostos, and journey homeward.”

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