File seven


    John ‘walked’ through the snowy, eternally dark forest, happy as ever, lighting up the night with his radiant glow.


    John arrived at the small clearing, slowing to a stop.


    “What a lovely night.” He warbles to himself.


    John slowly lowered himself to the ground, the saplings leaning in like children to a storyteller who has long since passed to the ethereal. As johns flat base touched down, he was once again reminded of his bitter divinity, the pain symbolized as a gift by the glow around him. His cube body, the joke of a gift he obtained for his kindness to the universe.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The saplings, young and frail, lean in, as do the mighty, ancient evergreens, to enter his aura of peace, growth, and safety. The saplings are as na?ve as to think it a gift, and the evergreens to get a bitter taste of the divine, if only to comfort John in his journey through the loneliness of eternity.