Using his hands, forearms, and elbows, the man crawled onto the top of the mountain.
He lay there, on his back, breathing deeply.
Looking down, hoping to see his village, the man saw only the veil of the clouds. Only when the wind shifted, did he catch fleeting glimpses of the valley. The lush green was giving way to the yellows and oranges of the coming season.
Standing on his two feet, he surveyed his surroundings.
There was nothing, save for a nearly bare shrub struggling for existence.
“Is this the home of a god?”, he called out with a shaky voice.
A loud and sudden rumble of thunder surprised the man, making him jump.
Turning around, he was taken aback by a bright light rising from beyond an outcrop of rock.
The man, mouth agape, looked on in wonder as a figure materialized from the light.
The figure appeared to be that of a tall man, each muscle well defined, naked and hairless despite the near-freezing temperatures.
There was no emotion on its face. Or was there?
Is that sadness, the man wondered. His awe was now giving away to curiosity. He had dared not look into the god’s eyes up until this point.
As another loud and rolling rumble of thunder echoed around the mountain, he raised his eyes.
The man looked into the eyes of his god.
The god looked into the eyes of the man.
A flash of lightning bathed the scene in white.
It burned.
The colors returned.
The burning faded.
The god was no more.
The man was no more.
The man was now god.
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