Homogeneous Prometheus

 

Inspired by nothing more than optimism

Bill set out into the morning

To see if there was any magic

He thought it was probably there, in abundance

But most people missed it

Most people weren’t looking

Bill would not miss it

Bill would look at the world in a different way

A new way.

You know what?

I hate Bill. 

I already, definitely, hate Bill. 

I’m sorry. I know I just created him. 

I know I just created you, Bill

But you’re terrible

Bouncing out of your door like you’re in a cartoon

Or an advert for… I don’t know what

Waffles, or car insurance or fascism

Or something

Looking for magic? Seriously?

Were you going to follow your heart?

Search for truth in the dreams told by the clouds in the sky?

Have an original thought, Bill.

I feel I may have crushed Bill’s optimism somewhat.

And now I feel bad.

I’m sorry, Bill

It’s not your fault

It’s mine

It’s my fault

For making you so awful. 

Look. Maybe there is some magic. 

Over there. In that puddle. 

Most people wouldn’t look there, 

Would they, Bill?

In a puddle. They’d avoid it. 

But not you.  

Because you, Bill, you see things differently.

Go on. Look in the puddle. 

What’s reflected?

Nothing, Bill. 

Nothing is reflected.

Just your stupid, weird nosed face. 

Oh, yeah. I forgot to say. 

You have a really weird nose.