The Glory

Despite it being a beautiful morning, CJ left the hospital feeling mildly depressed. She had been visiting night in, night out for a week. It had begun to get to her.

She sat on a roadside bench. The road was spattered with fresh horseshit. The smell was not entirely unpleasant. A wild-haired old man was sitting at the other end of the bench. He smiled at her. She smiled back.

She drew out a flask of brandy from her pocket and took a long pull at it. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

“Might I have a swig?” the old man asked.

She looked at him – unkempt, dull, and not very clean.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’m saving it for tonight.”

He nodded, and went back to staring at the traffic.

“I’m trying to find out where I live,” he said.

“Really?” CJ asked, mainly to be polite.

“Yes. Everyday I wander around looking for it. In the evening I find it. Then I forget again in the morning. There’s someone waiting for me there. I think they must be worried.”

The man looked down, waiting for a reaction. The sun was high, and caused his face to be entirely cast in shadow, except for his nose.

“So …” CJ said. “What do you do all day?”

“I … I don’t remember. I think I do something very important.”

Figures, CJ thought.

“Do you want to hear something crazy?” the man asked CJ.


“I think … I think I might be God. But I don’t know for sure, because I don’t remember.”

CJ decided not to reply. She wanted to hear it through.

He continued, “I think the reason I forget is so I won’t do something rash. You know, if I was all-powerful and knew it. I have to know. I have to see if I’m invincible.”

He got up and knelt down at the edge of the pavement, like an animal at a watering hole. He placed his head on the road.

CJ left him trying to convince trucks to drive over his head so he could know for sure if he was invulnerable.