The sky above was that of a television, tuned to a dead channel. Luckily, like my TV, I have a remote that controls the sky. If I require fresh water, I simply make it rain. If I desire a nice warm day, so be it. I was given this responsibility, this power, this gift, yet at the same time, this curse, by the creator. To make it easier, I established an organized system of charts that have general weather patterns depending on the time of year and where in the world you are. On my island, every geographical feature on Earth resides somewhere. The power seems quite corrupting at times; in the past, I have conjured a great storm of rain, snow, or ice to watch the reaction of those in the area from my TV. I have knowledge of Earth's diverse cultures and languages from watching them. When it seems uninteresting, I simply change the channel to watch another. Some, I believe, would think me crazy; however, isolation can do that to the mind. Yet still I go on every day, to a responsibility I must uphold each day, never to know true joy.
Who, I wonder, is this mysterious avatar that identifies himself as 'Creator'? I have heard those on the mainlands of Earth speak nonsense of there being no greater deity to craft the world as we know it. All have free will, so I grant them their beliefs without question, but in my heart I know that any such evidence they would offer as a solution is irrelevant.
written by Tim, Ramapo High School
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
2 weeks ago