(no subject)
A man-shaped god steps through the front door, raggedy jeans and beat-up boots first. He's got the look of a pariah in his form, a fellow used to skirting edges and getting the better of authority. When he lifts his head, clever, bright eyes scan the floor, and he smiles.
One might even say he lights up.
"Well, hasn't it just been a while."
He may look familiar to you. If you've ever taken part in a large-scale protest, an act of revolt, he's been there with you in the crowd. He was friends with Camus, at odds with Shelley, and once he dueled Peter the Great. He's got other stories, if you dig. He gets around: when you're avoiding your family, you do that.
He shaped men first. He gave the world fire. He brought civilization to humanity. And now, if you'd care to catch him, Prometheus, wisest of the Titans and older than the Olympians, is going to have himself a drink.
One might even say he lights up.
"Well, hasn't it just been a while."
He may look familiar to you. If you've ever taken part in a large-scale protest, an act of revolt, he's been there with you in the crowd. He was friends with Camus, at odds with Shelley, and once he dueled Peter the Great. He's got other stories, if you dig. He gets around: when you're avoiding your family, you do that.
He shaped men first. He gave the world fire. He brought civilization to humanity. And now, if you'd care to catch him, Prometheus, wisest of the Titans and older than the Olympians, is going to have himself a drink.