Flashes of Eternity

The Byzantine edifice appeared to have been induced with life of its own, surveiling my every move. A massive door with golden symbols inscribed on it and - most importantly - the symbol of an all-seeing-eye, that occult symbol so widely recognized thanks to works of Dan Brown and others.. but something inside me knew that was not it. That was going to be more.. much more.

I finally understood what was happening. Or rather - it dawned on me. I recognized these walls; all of my innermost thoughts conflagrated into a powerful cathartic experience - I was about to taste my own imaginary medicine.

A story I wrote.. with me, as the protagonist.. I would be lying if I told you adrenaline was not pumping through my veins like never before. But then, alas, I was afraid; afraid of whether I would be able to control the process of wading through infinity itself.

Footsteps. I was hearing footsteps. I knew what this menacing sound meant. I knew it all too well...

***

"You're coming with us. The Prophet wants to see you," was the first line of my story.

That was the sentence which started it all three years ago. That was the sentence which changed my entire existence, thrusting me into the abyss of girlishness. I remembered it all very clearly; it would be virtually impossible not to. Did it ever happen? I looked at my body. I could not believe what I was seeing - but belief was exactly what had gotten me here in the first place.

At first, I was hopeful...

But then, at a certain point, I knew my manhood was lost forever, meaning as long as I remained in this grotesque vision of my own mind.

The images of seeing my jewels inside a jar were still vivid. The images of little dresses being shoved on me. The images of make-up targeting my face with merciless precision. The images of language and behavior lessons. The images of teetering in heels.

There never was much time for nostalgic introspection. Especially not when I was about to hear the verdict from the Prophet Himself.