B-O-M-B
acedia – sloth
B-O-M-B
Too many times, the visions came in his sleep, when he was least likely to regard them with any importance.
He was a culinary student by day, one who could get by but wasn't likely to win any awards for his work. He cooked for himself only; he didn't believe anyone else would particularly enjoy his recipes, simple as they were. No one seemed to care.
At night, he communed with a godlike avian creature. He lived in a city in the sky and rode on the winds. He walked among winged humans who adored him.
All of which was just nonsense, of course. Why would anyone adore him?
He was nothing special. His parents far preferred his younger sister, the precocious yet utterly vapid Tivona who would probably become a movie star with a decent singing career on the side and a rich director husband to cater to her every whim. They'd been disappointed in his Y chromosome—girls were far more valuable and respected. Sure, he could sometimes cause little breezes and read voices on the wind, but there was no way his parents would believe him on that. For them and everyone else, he was one in fifty million. He could get by in life just by waking, eating, and sleeping, and no one would be any the wiser.
So he did.
And thus Ashtarth resigned himself to mundanity and obscurity until the end of time.