Entertainer

I step into cheering, the reverberations wafting motes of dust into the air, tinging the sunlight and making the world glimmer for an instant. That is what has lead to this moment, chasing that glimmer, not letting up for an instant, always chasing and then finally having it all catch up.

I grasped at shiny things; my first memories are of reaching for anything that sparkled, shone or shattered light into pleasing perceptions. I dove into murky depths to retrieve rusted coins, shaved metal off piers, bumped into the lobsters to grab their brass buttons, anything I could do to fulfill that craving. As I grew, so did my cravings — not satisfied with that material shine — they desired adulation, shiny eyes, turned in my direction, minds waiting to be sparked by my very words, glasses tinkling in candlelight as they were raised to my name.

I dove into those imaginary worlds the same way I had into rivers in those bygone days, heedless of consequence, seeking nothing but to fulfill those desires. I filled my empty days by pretending, both for those that cheered my name and for myself: that they loved me and not what I presented to them in those brief hours to dull their drudgery. I told myself that I was lucky, to live many lives, while most had to make do with one, to be venerated, while most hoped to be ignored. I crave their acceptance still, for what shines brightest but the hearts of our fellows, filled to the brim with the brief happiness that one has provided them.

I stepped up and up, noticed by the rulers of our realm, feted and dined, for I created worlds while they had to make do with just ruling one. I knew they did not truly understand my creations, bound as they were by the chains of their flesh and obligations to the earth, while my mind unfettered, floated free in the aether. I desired to free them from said chains, immortalizing them in my words, shiny as amber. I recreated them and was rewarded, to this sound of cheering outside as they wait, for the one who is me.

I step into stinging sunlight, vortices of dust and insects in my wake as I make my way. One the side stand those who will listen, their hoods dark to hide their bright eyes and make their ears more amenable to the sound. I look forward at my implements, as they adjust them around me, ignoring the itching of the hemp against my body. The cheering intensifies, as if the crowd is buoyed by my presence. I look at them again, smile and step into my deliverance.