Prompt: The world tree is in your backyard. And you are getting pretty tired of how the gods are knocking at your door to see it.
At first it was amazing to have gods knocking on my front door, though they were only doing so to walk through the house to get to the World Tree in the backyard. Odin, Loki, Thor, Freya, Frigg, and so on. But, soon it became less amazing and more annoying. At any minute, either while I was sleeping, watching TV, taking a shower, or going to the bathroom, there would be knock on the door and I would have to let them in. Of course, I tried not doing that, ignoring their pounding, but I quickly learned that wouldn’t work, for the gods wouldn’t be held back by just a slab of wood. At least they paid for a new door.
It wasn’t even just the knocking, but the way they would lumber through the house as though it was a barn. Their boots or feet thick with mud, leaving streaks across the hardwood floor. Gods who had massive weapons would aimlessly carry them, tearing holes in the ceiling, knocking over potted plants, hanging pictures, knick-knacks and books. And, they weren’t average height, they were giants, at least ten feet tall or more. Enormous shoulders and backs and chests, huge muscular arms and legs, all covered by steel or gold plating. They smelled, too. I don’t think there was a shower or bath where they came from, or on top of the World Tree.
Eventually, I just sold the house to them and moved a town over, living off the exuberant amount they paid for that two-story condo. And, when I’m alone and sitting in the silence of my new house, I wonder if they think of me, wonder if I played as much a role in their lives as they did mine… And, I hope if so, that I was as annoying to them as they were to me.
Read my previous prompt, “A Hunter’s Last Meal.”
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