The sound of a keyboard was clacking through the night. The old professor, almost in his sixties sat looking at the screen. "yawn. Age is starting to get to me- huh, used to pull off all-nighters all the time......Let's finish grading these first." 

One hour turned into two hours, two hours turned into three hours. The old professor got ready for bed. Just as he had done every single day since childhood he said his prayers. "As I sleep may the two moons watch me. If I die may the four winds carry me. If I wake may my mother's words guide me. When to decide may my fathers face embolden me. If I sin may the creator's love forgive me. I dedicate this prayer to the Creator, the one that writes my soul." Yes just as he had always done he said these words which he memorised from childhood, and got a reply?

["I am the author, the one who writes your soul. On this day thou has been chosen."]

§

"I wasn't crazy", this was all the young man could think of as he sprinted through a field of corpses. Looking at the exact scene he had seen in his visions hundreds of times he felt nostalgic. It was five years ago, he just completed college and coming from a rich family was on a set course for success. then it happened. Growing up an atheist he didn't believe in THE CREATOR or the four winds. So on the night of his graduation under the influence of alcohol, he lit a temple on fire. By the time the priests and sisters came from their dormitories to check the temple was already in a raging blaze. "HAHAHAHAHA!!!!. What creator?! What god?! huh?!! If such a thing is real he would come and put out this fire! His laughter and shouts could be heard from the temple grounds. He watched in glee as the believers all scramble to put out the fire. And even as they looked at him with disdain and anger he only laughed, feelings of inebriated joy overwhelmed him. But then to his laughter, something replied.

["I am the author, the one who writes your soul. You laugh at me. I will make you a god , will you laugh then?."]