Life had secrets we all kept at a distance. Secrets gently revealed itself to others in form of murmurs. The gods kept themselves mysterious and stood behind shadows all-knowing. Someone knew. The others would find out eventually.
We keep ourselves at a distance from others to be seen as dignified. We bury excess baggage beneath quilts and upon our shoulders. It gets heavy sometimes. That was how Murs fell down again. Murs got up the other day and mused upon his fate. He gazed at stars and wondered if the vast constellation was the works of everything.
Heavy lids fell upon his eyes and he wasn't looking forward to the light of day because tomorrow the whole world would know he fell again. Murs hurriedly ran for shelter when he felt the first hurricane hit his shoulders. Gusts of wind whirled in his astral plane and left a wreck in his emotions. He had a ghast expression on his face and he wished for it to all end.
He turned to study the shelter he was dwelling on and saw a vague figure. It was walking in his direction. Soon, the image of the vague figure emerged clear. It was the gods. Was it judgement day? He contemplated on the likelihood that the world would be right again.
The gods roared thunder and raged bouts of anger. They paced in circles taking turns on tells and tales. Smoke fumed beneath them and they rode on plateaus that peaked mountains and ran by meanders. Murs saw their boast of ego and was afraid of what would happen next. Would he be made to suffer a large scale and slowly die then turn into a myth that would be passed on to generations as a lesson?
The gods argued to find a decision. Hastily, fate and destiny made a compromise and decided to make Murs vanish into thin air along with his entire existence. This was everything Murs had hoped for. Finally, his dream came true.