The second coming (standard:fantasy, 640 words)
Author: T.Mack	Added: Feb 12 2005	Views/Reads: 3280/2168	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A young man in the doctor's office claims to be Jesus Christ...

The Second Coming 

"So," Dr. Frobisher leaned back in the expensive leather swivel chair,
"you believe you're Jesus Christ?" 

"Yes." 

Frobisher studied the young man seated across the room. He certainly
looked the part. 

Long hair, flowing kaftan, sandals, even the beard and blue eyes that
seemed to bore right through one, all added up to a convincing picture. 


He picked up an expensive gold pen from his desk and started doodling
absently on a pad. 

"Tell me when this started." 

"I was playing in a rock band a few years ago... When suddenly my father
spoke to me." 

The young man shifted uncomfortably in the chair, re-positioned his
legs, and continued, 

"no one else heard his voice, except me." 

"What exactly did he say?" 

"He said son, it's time you remembered who you are, and started doing
what you were put on earth to do... Something like that." 

Dr. Frobisher nodded. 

"Basically, he said I had to save the world, really." 

"I see." "That's the reason I'm seeing you. I've been trying to save the
world, but it's been an uphill struggle. I feel I'm starting to lose my 
sanity." 

The young man turned away, and began looking out of the window, to a
Park below. 

Ducks and Swans were floating majestically upon the surface of a small
lake. Children were playing, laughing, and singing. 

He turned back to Dr. Frobisher, and continued. 

"There's such polarization now, such a distance between good and evil." 

The young man looked down through the window, stroking his un-shaven
chin. 

"I feel the pure love that young mother has for her son, and yet," he
pointed to a figure huddled on a bench, "I feel the hate and confusion 
in that old man, who has murder staining his soul." 

He sighed. "Also, I grow weary of the rejection." 

"Rejection?" 

The young man's blue eyes met Frobisher's. 

"Yes," he said, "you do not truly believe I am he either, do you?" 

Frobisher felt uncomfortable. He put down the pen. 

"I am merely a sounding board for your problems," he said, "my own
beliefs are unimportant." 

"Yes." The young man leaned back and closed his eyes. "Perhaps you are
right, perhaps this is some glorious delusion. It would be easier." 

Frobisher glanced at a file. 



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