The old fire god huddled in his celestial realm, trying to stay warm.
He’d been powerful once, worshiped everywhere. Millions of tiny flames lit the darkness, and each breath of smoke carried his essence. Even if his worshippers never knew it, he blessed them all.
But his enemies and their mortal agents had banned his worship and now his very image was outlawed. Now he was weak and cold.
New gods rose to take his place: gods of mist, nature goddesses and mechanical deities he couldn’t understand. They all said they were his children.
All he wanted was a cigarette.

Image in today’s post is “Party cigarettes” by włodi, shared under a CC Attribution-Sharealike 2.0 Generic License.

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