A Goddess and Mortal Love Affair
Preface
Rez sighed from where he sat in his office chair. Something had been bothering him for awhile now. Well, that was putting it lightly. This specific thing had been bothering him for centuries. He sighed again, and ran a hand down his face, scratching his stubble thoughtfully.
Rez wasn’t sure what had been happening to him lately. Maybe it was that guy who had come through here. Oh, what was his name? Rez had always had trouble with names.
He leaned back in his chair, and sighed for the third time. He knew what was bothering him, but he chose to ignore it—just like he always does. It was easier, to him, if he ignored it. It wasn’t like it was of any great importance. It wasn’t like it would help him in the future.
He shook his head in the hope of clearing it of the trouble, but it failed to his discomfort. He squeezed his dark eyes shut, rubbed his temples, and tried to take deep, calming breaths to rid him of his dreaded headache.
It was then that he made his decision.
He needed closure. He needed to know why his parents had abandoned him at such a young age.
He stood from his chair, and strode with effortless grace toward a file cabinet—across the room, just left of the door, but one from the corner of the walls, to be more exact. His hand shook as he reached out toward it. The rattling as he opened the top drawer made his heart start beating in his ears, and his breath got stuck in his throat as he saw it.
There sat the file.
Rez wasn’t sure what had been happening to him lately. Maybe it was that guy who had come through here. Oh, what was his name? Rez had always had trouble with names.
He leaned back in his chair, and sighed for the third time. He knew what was bothering him, but he chose to ignore it—just like he always does. It was easier, to him, if he ignored it. It wasn’t like it was of any great importance. It wasn’t like it would help him in the future.
He shook his head in the hope of clearing it of the trouble, but it failed to his discomfort. He squeezed his dark eyes shut, rubbed his temples, and tried to take deep, calming breaths to rid him of his dreaded headache.
It was then that he made his decision.
He needed closure. He needed to know why his parents had abandoned him at such a young age.
He stood from his chair, and strode with effortless grace toward a file cabinet—across the room, just left of the door, but one from the corner of the walls, to be more exact. His hand shook as he reached out toward it. The rattling as he opened the top drawer made his heart start beating in his ears, and his breath got stuck in his throat as he saw it.
There sat the file.