The Flight of the Lonely God

The Flight of the Lonely God


I closed the door behind me. The only constant in my life. My only friend, only it didn't talk. I slowly make my way to the central hub, but to my former companion outside I'm already gone. My hands work the controls absentmindedly, they are second nature to me. My hands can take me anywhere and anywhen with less effort than humans walk to the park. The universe is so vast and unpredictable that in almost a thousand years of dancing up and down the time line of whole galaxies, I haven't seen all it's secrets and wonders. Yet at this moment, because I chose this moment, a friend is enjoying morning coffee with her husband, her grandfather looking on with pride at the woman she is with him and the woman she was with me. I will never know that. I've come close, but my enemies forced me to change, to remember, to die.

Where to now? Does it really matter? I'll stumble out that door like I always do. Gawk at how wonderful creation is while bringing only destruction, induce awe in some poor soul so that they become beholden to me, and in my vanity I let them follow me through that door. I tried to stop for awhile. Traveling alone offered freedom from breaking my hearts. Freedom also meant detachment. I could save everybody if I wanted. I could make it so no bad ever happens to that little blue planet in the Milky Way. The races of the universe already fear or will fear me, why not advocate their terror? Because to become that is to become what I was forced to destroy. I'm the last one. I have to preserve what we were. Otherwise I will have killed them all for no reason other than to win.

So that left me with a second option. Adoption. Why not? They're always so wonderful! So eager to see and learn. What's it to me? I'll outlive them. They can laugh at my antics like children and I can hold their hands when they're scared. They can watch me in wonder as I show them what's beyond themselves. Such wonderful people! So ambitious, so courageous, so creative. They look at me and wish to impress me. Do they never realize they already have? Yet that option always lead me back here. Standing in my little blue box drifting in space. Every time I said goodbye it hurt. Each one brought a new, different kind of pain.

Dammed. Dammed if I do . . . dammed if I don't. Like Tantalus or Sisyphus. This is my eternal cycle of punishment. My penance for saving time and space. What's stopping me? Why don't I just throw open those doors and jump out into a star? No. That would be too kind. To simply let me burn. Even if I flew into the event horizon of a black hole I would just be spat out some time and place. Why not end it before it begins? Go back in time right at the start and nip the universe in the bud? I could start it all over again if I wanted. Who's gonna stop me? No. I already reset the Universe once. Brilliant, but not really all it's cracked up to be. So even death is not an option. For myself, or the whole Universe. To have everything, is to have nothing.

I listen to the engines, they don't have to make that noise, but I like to hear it. Not because sitting here in the silence of space would drive me mad, I tried that as an experiment a couple of centuries ago. Insanity quickly got boring. Hearing that familiar sound just proves a constant in my life. It doesn't change, it hasn't changed. History changes, my companions change, my enemies change, I change. It doesn't.
Distress signal? 2,000 years old? Why not? Maybe someone will get lucky and put a bullet in my head. Kill me too quickly to do anything about it. Then again most likely not. Maybe another poor sod will make me love them. They'll come along with me and I'll enjoy it for awhile. I'll put on a smile and pretend to feel again. I'll lie to myself and say it's forever. Who knows? I might believe myself for a day or two. I'm a very good liar after all. The engines hum and the centuries slip back. Want to get there when the getting's still good right?

Touch down. Sonic screwdriver? Check. Psychic paper? Check. TARDIS key? Check! I make my way to the door. My hand touches it. When will this end? Haven't I lived long enough? Haven't I ruined enough lives? Why can't I just die? I always ask myself these questions. I know the answers to all of them.

“Just the mental ramblings of a senile old man.” I open the door unto another unsuspecting world.