Look I fucking get it, it’s like that thing they say in the toy spaceship movies, only you’re saying it with a lisp. As a baby I too wept tiny swords of shattered blue light. My right hand was part robot. All my friends were different muppets. The doctor turned to congratulate my mother. It’s a boy, he said, & began helping her outline the hero’s journey I was compelled by literature to complete before my death upon this Earth. Take the sun down from the highest shelf? Check. Eff up some dragon jerking it in the rose garden? No problem. Stuff like that, mostly. Truth is I haven’t even started yet. Soon I’ll look up from this computer, & I’ll be thirty. All the people I used to know, so far away, making the same kid over & over. They’ll come gather around my bones, somewhere in the nearish future, & say, He died dressed up as a wizard! & they’ll be right. Not because I was magic, just lacking the strength to change this bathrobe.