WE ALL GET WHAT WE WANT Part Three

Part Three.

By the way, these is actually just one short story in a whole series. A book called In These Last Days in which every day is the last day of a person's life but they do not know it. Some stories are humorous, others, like this one, or decidedly not. You should probably be at least 21 to read the next installement or two.

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"I'll just keep working out until someone comes," he thought. But after what seemed like 45 minutes to him he sat down and just looked at the door. Hours went by and still no one came. The television in his loft did not work and the phone was dead.

"The clock on the wall must be broken," he thought, thinking that it had stopped. This was not altogether true as Maddox would discover a century or so later. It was actually moving so fast that its gyrations could only be detected by a mild hum which came from the center of the clock.

He continued to sit in the room. Then he paced some, did some weights and time went by again and again. No one came.

He tried the doors but they would not budge. If he tried pulling on them hard and long enough they became heated to the point where they hurt his hands. "How many days have I been here?" he wondered. "Where is everyone?"

"They are in themselves," came a voice.

Maddox wheeled around and saw an elderly gentleman sitting in a director's chair about twenty feet away. The man was dressed in an attractive, if not extravagant, white linen suit which was adorned with pair of white duo-tone leather slip-ons and a wide-brimmed straw hat which had a peach-colored scarf tied around the base. As for the gentleman himself, Robert could see that he had a rich dark tan which was accentuated by what must have been (under the hat) a thick crop of greyish white hair.

"Who are you?" Maddox shouted, "...and what is going on here and what do you mean they are in themselves"? he asked more steadily as he approached the man. The strength and directness of his questions gave him added confidence until the man, looking up from under his hat stopped Maddox in his tracks.

The face was normal, but the eyes, those "windows of the soul" as his own spiritual master had taught him, reflected his own image for they were like two round mirrors set into the stranger's handsome and well-tanned face.

"I am not without my mercies," said the stranger, "although I do tire of hearing the same questions. Therefore let's get this over."

"Get what Ove..."

"I shall do the talking," interrupted the stranger, "and you shall do the listening." As he said this his eyes slashed back and forth temporarily blinding Maddox whose shoulders simply dropped at that point.

"You will find that you have absolutely everything you ever said you really wanted here. In this place your own will is supreme and your imagination can run wild and provide you with the reality of whatever you want."

The stranger stood and paced a bit looking around, then turned sharply. "You are free of all constraints here and have all the time in the world, so to speak." When the stranger said this Maddox thought he detected a slight flash of a smile. "In fact," the stranger continued, "you will find that time has less and less meaning for you, and in time (the same smile appeared) you will forget what it use to mean."

"In short Mr. Maddox, you are your own God, Subect, Object and Universe."

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Part Four in short order. Please comment at the end.