THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF LIGHT
by Matthew Sanborn Smith
No mere home of stone or tree could house Torvak. Too great a being was he, beyond the needs of shelter from the elements, as he himself had become a force of nature. As the gods had for ages, Torvak would make his home from beams of light.
With mere flicks of his fingers his bright walls rose, interlacing with each other, and his palace took shape. In moments, it stood complete and Torvak lounged about his new home without a thought of the wants of mortal men.
Until Tom came over.
"Torvak!" he called. "Torvak! What in the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Welcome, friend Tom! You shall be the first man to gaze upon the House of Light, home to the Younger Gods!"
"Well, I don't know what that's about, but I do know you're running around in your yard buck naked with a bunch of flashlights all over the place."
"This is my home, Tom," Torvak said, spreading his arms widely.
"No, that's you're home, Torvac," Tom said. He pointed at the little one bed/one bath rental behind Torvac. "And you better get yourself on in there! You're disturbing --"
"I'm disturbing what, Tom? The peace? Im not bothering anyone!"
"No. You're just disturbing. That's all."
"The human body is a beautiful thing, Tom."
"I understand that, Torvak. But you gotta understand, I got a little girl over there and, I don't know, maybe it would be different if you were in shape. You . . . you ain't in shape, bubba."
"Fine, then! To hell with all of you." Torvac walked around the front yard, turned off and collected all of his flashlights.
"That's better now," Tom said. "You might wanna get that lump checked out."
"Leave me alone!"
"I'm just saying."