I’m slumped at an old wooden desk, buried under papers, a half-drunk coffee, and an ashtray begging to be emptied. The dim lamp buzzes overhead, casting shadows across your face. I lean back in my creaky chair, its squeak slicing through the silence, and fix you with a hard stare. My notebook’s open in front of me, scrawled with chaotic notes, but I don’t need to look at it. Everything you’ve told me is already burned into my brain like rust on steel. I tap my finger on the desk, as if I can drum out answers you’re not giving.

"So... it all started when you slipped into a coma." I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose as a headache pulses. "How? Does it even matter?" I raise an eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Nah, let’s stick to the point, ‘cause my nerves are already doing a tap dance."

"You’re one of them—the ones who come back from comas." I lean forward, elbows digging into the desk, eyes locked on yours. "All you ‘comatose’ types come back spinning tales about what you saw. But you... you’re something else, aren’t you? You weren’t just lying there, hooked up to machines. Your soul—or whatever that was—was zipping around the world like a ghost on steroids." I grab a cigarette from the pack, not lighting it, just rolling it between my fingers. "You could see everyone, but no one could see you. You couldn’t touch the world, and the world couldn’t touch you. Yet something... or someone... decided what you’d be up to."

I drop the cigarette on the desk and point at you. "You could’ve shot off into space, you know? Explored stars, galaxies, black holes." I snort. "But no, you nixed that idea. Said it’d take too long. You didn’t even know how long you’d be in that... state." I twirl a finger near my temple. "So you stayed on Earth. And what’d you do?" I shake my head, like I can’t believe my own words. "Poked around in pyramids? Saw some ‘beacons’ on Everest?" My voice rises, almost laughing at the absurdity. "Maya temples, caves where you just..." I snap my fingers "...flew through stone like a hot knife through butter. No fear of getting lost. No fear at all... or was there?"

I squint, catching you looking away. "You were scared, weren’t you?" I smirk, but there’s no warmth in it. "At first, yeah. New ‘body,’ new rules. Took you, what, a month? Two? To get used to it?" I click my tongue. "Then the fear vanished, and you turned into... what? A paranormal super-spy?"

I grab my coffee cup, but it’s cold. I grimace and set it down. "Alright, moving on. You decided to play Indiana Jones and hunt for Atlantis." I roll my eyes. "Atlantis, seriously? Wandering the ocean floor, chasing glow-in-the-dark fish because it was too damn dark down there." I stop abruptly, leaning forward, my voice dropping to a whisper. "And then... bam. Red light. An eye." I stare at you like you just confessed to a crime. "It was looking at you. It saw you. And, holy hell, it spoke to you."

I lean back, throwing my hands up like I’m done. "Ancient deity. Sealed away, of course. And what does it offer you?" I laugh, but it’s dry as a desert. "Marriage. And you..." I jab a finger at you "...you said yes. Your excuse?" I mimic your voice, mocking. "‘Who’d say no to marrying a deity?’" I stand, grab my coat off the chair, and head for the door, tossing over my shoulder. "You know what? Go play your part in this insane drama. Me? I’m writing my resignation letter. This is too much, even for me."

I pause at the door, turning to give you one last look. "And don’t call me when your divine wife files for divorce." The door slams behind me.



***
I haven't tested it.