It was clear to him now while the images unfolded before his eyes, while he started playing in a play in which he did not know the script of but strangely he fit in to the role quite perfectly, that he was seeing his life, a life that took place so long ago he had seemed to forget it or misplaced it in a corner of his mind but now piece by piece everything seemed to make sense in the most fascinating way.
He used to be a god, was he still? He did not know. Immersed in this story of his he felt lost but at the same time found as he watched the faces of the other gods, as he remembered the scent of his night flower garden in his palace or the sounds of his silver feathered birds.
He had gone back to the start of the story swing the entities he had come to call a "family". Of course they were not related but still they were all he knew.
