The title is copy right to Billy Talent, other than that no authors note, just read and enjoy.
It began with the storm.
The Gods are fiction. They are not real, their place is in Greek myths, or so we thought. My brother, sister, and
I watched from our kitchen window; children with the same liquid green eyes stared in awe at the strange sight.
The sky was unlike any other we had ever seen: the clouds swallowed the sky and moved like liquid, the thun-
der made an odd pounding noise which shook the house. The lightening shot through the sky making the lights
flicker and hum. My parents stood behind us watching as well. I remember feeling my father's hand rest on my
head and stroke my hair; I leaned into him and looked up at his eyes. He was worried. He knew something we
children could not yet understand. This storm was far from natural, it was provoked by us, and now in one night
our lives and the world changed.
It was a week after the storm when the broadcast came on; it announced a new beginning, the return, and some
other so-called meaningful messages. The Gods returned and they took their place in our lives once again.
Where were the holy wars? Humans are frightened children, why didn't we try to fight for our beliefs? We are
cowards who take the easy route to survival. There were no wars, we had a divine being stand before us, solid
proof that God, our creator, existed in a physical form. I remember walking to elementary school, it was my 3rd
day of grade four. Eleanor my older sister held my hand as we walked down the narrow street, the houses on it
gone. I slowed down to stare at the construction of another temple in honor of Zeus; the stone being raised was
so white that I thought it couldn't have been man-made.
This is not where my story starts though. It starts three months after my twenty-sixth birthday involving a forest,
a man, a hound, and The Race.