I wrote a dialogue between two, well lets call them people, one of them certainly is. The other, well at this point I am not entirely sure what they are myself. Its the kind of random dialogue that ends up in my scraps folder and may or may not see the light of day. I have an idea what its all about and the context behind it all, but little more than that. Sometimes these things just need to be written down.

What is beyond?
The place where he lays
The dead god?
Some call him such
And is he?
Is he what?
Dead?
Who is to say?
How long have you sat there?
Here?
Yes here, on the doorstep of a dead gods tomb, how long, for they say you’re always here.
Always is a long time, but in relation to eternity, I have been here but a moment.
I spoke to a guard yesterday who claimed to remember seeing you here when he was a child.
People grow as the years flow by.
Perhaps but he was near sixty and claims you’re the same now as you were then.
The memories of men can be fleeting, can they not? Clouded by the years that pass, what they remember now may not have been what was, merely what they believe to have been.
You speak in riddles my friend.
Are we friends now? You assume my friendship after few words, how brave of you.
Brave?
To trust so easily the words of others.
You’re saying the guard lied.
No, to lie is a conscious choice, he did not lie, he is merely wrong. I haven’t been here since he was a child.
So you were not here when he was a child then?
I did not say that, you need to listen to words as spoken and assume their meaning less.
Riddles again…
If you think so, but I speak plain enough for most.
So, you’re saying you were here when he was a child and you have not changed, but you have not been here since he was a child… So far longer…
Now you perceive the meaning of my words.
Interesting!
Is it?
You know, they say there was a great battle here once. Thousands of years ago.
Ten thousand of your years ago, and a great battle at that. A battle between men and things that were not men. Between gods and things that were not gods…
So they say, yes. Was there?
Yes.
They also say that is where the god was slain, the god they built this tomb around.
So they say.
Yes, so they say… And some say you have sat here since that day and watched the entrance of his tomb. Watching this open door, this arch way into darkness. They say you have sat here all these years. Thousands of years. Never sleeping, never eating, just sat watching this doorway.
Do they? They say much these ones who say these things.
Ten thousand years is a long time.
Is it? Perhaps it is, but that depends on your perspective. To a mountain ten thousand years in but a moment.
A moment in eternity…
(laughter,) No, mountains do not last an eternity, though it may seem so. To the mayfly a toad seems ancient. To a Mayfly a toad is not unlike a god.
Toad? Mayflies? mountains? Riddles again.
Not so, I speak plainly. You merely do not grasp meaning. But then does a mayfly grasp the nature of the toad.
Am I a mayfly then?
To that which lays within, yes.
The dead god.
You may think of him as such, or perhaps think of him as the toad, though he will not thank you for doing so.
I do not seek the thanks of a dead god.
That is well for you are unlikely to receive them.