I replace the phone on the cradle, allowing myself a sigh before picking up the pen once more. Yet another of the endless barrage of calls, another necessary evil of my life's work.
My hand cramps up. I have to get it looked at soon, but I ignore it for the time being, and soon I can't feel it. It's still there, of course, but the work keeps me occupied.
I can ignore pretty much anything if I focus hard enough. I pride myself on having an iron will, but I find it tested more and more lately.
There's a dull ache developing somewhere behind my forehead. I can mostly ignore those too, but they've been getting worse lately.
When I was younger, it seems, I could do anything I wished. Whatever I could imagine would be done, and that would be that. I had no doubt in my mind that my goal to take the world would be accomplished by the time I was fifty.
I'm forty-four now, and not so certain about anything like that. I know I will succeed in making the world my own, but I do not think I will be the one to rule it. It seems I've gone from fresh hopeful to middleman. I will be the one to accomplish it, the one to bring the world to its knees...
But someone else will rule it. I have to face that, really. Domination is really a young man's game, and I no longer have what it takes.
I will go down in the annals of history as the great conqueror, the one who captured the world, and turned it over to a trusted general. I have yet to decide who it will be, but I know that decision must be made soon. We are close, I can feel it. Closer than we have ever been, closer, perhaps, than anyone before us.
A shudder runs through me, as it does when I think of such things. For all my fatalism, power is still what drives me, everything that makes me tick. Perhaps later I would find some impressionable young agent with stars in their eyes, bring them up to my office, and show them what real power is like.
But that is for later. Now I finish the form before me, eager to have a moment before the next call, or the next meeting, or the next issue that evidently only I can solve.
It is enough to drive someone insane. I think that is what happened to me.
I will accomplish my goal, that I know. And then I will retire, maybe live out my days in Seafoam, secure in the knowledge that I brought about a new world order, something no one in history has been able to do.
Perhaps at one time I truly wished to unite the world. I do not remember those days.
With a sigh, I rest my head in my hands and close my eyes. I can hear the people hailing me, see the Rocket banners waving, the standard marking the ultimate victory. But the scene is shattered by the ringing of the phone.
I pause before answering it, reveling in my fading fantasy for just a moment longer. It will only be a matter of time.
My hand cramps up. I have to get it looked at soon, but I ignore it for the time being, and soon I can't feel it. It's still there, of course, but the work keeps me occupied.
I can ignore pretty much anything if I focus hard enough. I pride myself on having an iron will, but I find it tested more and more lately.
There's a dull ache developing somewhere behind my forehead. I can mostly ignore those too, but they've been getting worse lately.
When I was younger, it seems, I could do anything I wished. Whatever I could imagine would be done, and that would be that. I had no doubt in my mind that my goal to take the world would be accomplished by the time I was fifty.
I'm forty-four now, and not so certain about anything like that. I know I will succeed in making the world my own, but I do not think I will be the one to rule it. It seems I've gone from fresh hopeful to middleman. I will be the one to accomplish it, the one to bring the world to its knees...
But someone else will rule it. I have to face that, really. Domination is really a young man's game, and I no longer have what it takes.
I will go down in the annals of history as the great conqueror, the one who captured the world, and turned it over to a trusted general. I have yet to decide who it will be, but I know that decision must be made soon. We are close, I can feel it. Closer than we have ever been, closer, perhaps, than anyone before us.
A shudder runs through me, as it does when I think of such things. For all my fatalism, power is still what drives me, everything that makes me tick. Perhaps later I would find some impressionable young agent with stars in their eyes, bring them up to my office, and show them what real power is like.
But that is for later. Now I finish the form before me, eager to have a moment before the next call, or the next meeting, or the next issue that evidently only I can solve.
It is enough to drive someone insane. I think that is what happened to me.
I will accomplish my goal, that I know. And then I will retire, maybe live out my days in Seafoam, secure in the knowledge that I brought about a new world order, something no one in history has been able to do.
Perhaps at one time I truly wished to unite the world. I do not remember those days.
With a sigh, I rest my head in my hands and close my eyes. I can hear the people hailing me, see the Rocket banners waving, the standard marking the ultimate victory. But the scene is shattered by the ringing of the phone.
I pause before answering it, reveling in my fading fantasy for just a moment longer. It will only be a matter of time.