Breaking Young Divinities

Chapter 17

I was sitting naked on the toilet with my pants crumpled around my ankles. December's shadowy rain was coming down outside. A morbid-cool wisp of a breeze drifted in through the window. It caressed me across the nape of my neck. And thus I pondered the depressing futility of it all.

Despite the greatest striving of men and women, it all must come to nothing. No works are everlasting. The pyramids, while an awesome sight, have begun to crumble. The young grow old; the old grow older; all things must pass. And in passing everything is rendered illegitimate. Desecrated. It is said that everything old is made new again, but I do not see it this way. Instead I see that everything old is made older, and everything older is wiped away by the Hand of Time. So whatever I do, it doesn't matter. I can be great, or I can be nothing, but it doesn't matter. In the end all my achievements will be flushed away as worthless refuse, in just the same way that I flush the toilet: without a thought.

Better to remain poor and unknown, so that at least the colossal crashing sound at the end will not be as loud.

Christmas came to our household as it did every year at about the same time. Mom's decorations were everywhere. But despite the festive season my emotions were as down-turned as ever. My nightmares clawed and gnawed at me like a nightly demonic possession. I did not know happiness. But there was mistletoe.

Mom's friends visited often during the Christmas season. The apartment was constantly filled with laughter, warmth, and the scent of eggnog. At times I would be entertained in passing, and find myself temporarily lightened in mood. This happened whenever her more interesting friends came by, like the fat, bald, boisterous man who had a fat voice. Or the skinny, tall, animated man who had a tall and skinny voice. Her less lively acquaintances did not pique my interest, so I tried to stay in my room on the occasions of their boring visits.

I enjoyed eggnog and candy on one of those nights that we had an exciting guest – the fat man. In fact I had so much fun that I could hear waves of eggnog splashing in my stomach. To my despair the guest left, and so I crawled into bed. I was guided gently toward sleep by that comforting ocean sound coming from within my belly. My eyes became heavy, my limbs were like Yule logs, and my head was a blank. Despite all that had happened lately, at that exact moment I actually felt content. And so I slept....

Standing beside the Christmas tree, wearing a cute missus-Claus outfit and looking remarkably beautiful, was Jen. The diffuse winter light managed to focus itself into a beam, just so that it could reflect off her beautiful hair. The light looked better because of it.

Her eyes shined at me darkly. Her lips spoke to me silently. Her breasts beckoned me deliciously. Her hips swayed at the sight of me, and her slightly bowed legs bowed just a little more when I looked at her. Just standing there, without trying, Jen was the paragon of womanhood, and she was all mine.

"Hi," she said to me, smiling widely.

"Hey!" I said excitedly. I was so very happy to see her.

Jen looked at my hand, and said, "What's that you've got?"

"Oh this?" I asked, reaching into the plastic bag. "It's a surprise."

Jen beamed with anticipation.

"Tell me! What is it?" She ran toward me like a little girl waiting for some ice cream. I gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I've got the perfect gift for you." I took her by the hand and led her back to the Christmas tree, so that she could stand in that beam of light.

"Oh! Oh!" Jen hollered, clapping her hands together with glee. "Let me see!"

I laughed and gave her a hug. So beautiful.