A Life Accepted
Written by Brandon Reid
Immerse in stars and blue.
“Do you accept to be reborn into this life?”
“I do.”
“Don’t be hasty, I haven’t yet informed you of the details.”
“I desire it just the same. I will be—whatever opportunity you present.”
“A bit foolish, no?”
“Is not the fool the noblest of offices?”
“Perhaps. I won’t give you all the answers. Choose to live with your decisions.”
“They aren’t decisions if you know what shall occur.”
“Maybe I know, maybe I don’t, maybe both—depends. Let’s pretend I do know how your life will unfold. You will suffer, that is certain. You will face death many a time. Death could claim you any instant. You may live to be 100, you may be struck down in your youth. There’s no way to tell. Accept, you, these conditions?”
“As long as I return to you, then yes, I will do whatever it takes.”
“You won’t know if you will return here as we are now. Does that sway you?”
“No. It is enough I know now.”
“More on that later. You’re comfortable unaware of how you’ll suffer?”
“If you’ll tell me, I’ll listen. I’m assured knowing my suffering will eventually end.”
“You say that now, but you won’t know for certain how you’ll react amidst suffering. One succumbs quite easily to cursing the television.”
“That’s true. We’ve all been there.”
“Say you starve, say you inhabit the cold, shivering, day and night. Will you be able to pursue your craft, then?”
“What is this, my craft? Will you tell me?”
“I will make you a writer.”
“A writer?”
“A writer of unbearable talent.”
“Huh… Well then, it’s par for the course, is it not—to starve and suffer?”
“By no means. For you, I will do this favour.”
“Thanks.”
“Your existence will be neglected by the many. With spirits, you will commune. Can you handle that?”
“I think so.”
“Wait till you hear the rest. You will take no luxuries. You will remain unsure of your mission, your gift; people will mock you, laugh and spit at you. You’ll receive no money, no earthly gain. You will be an outcast, a nobody before the eyes of all.”
“Okay, but will my spirits love me?”
“Who’s to say?”
“That would sustain me.”
“What if no love you find, each opportunity missed then relived as the world turns? No peace of mind shall ye have! Your heart will flutter like a bird, never to touch ground, nothing to be had or won, forever and ever. So be it?”
“So be it.”
“I will not hold it against you if you refuse.”
“No, that’s for the other panel.”
Sweep revolving rays.
“Can you rise from defeat? Every word you write or say will be persecuted. No relations will garner sympathy. You will be hounded all your days. Accept, you, still?”
“Are not the greatest works of literature initially despised in their days? Do these works not endure beyond generations? If all you say is to befall me while I am still living, I find great amusement knowing I shall return to you, only to find my words still living.”
“You will have no bliss as you have now, so reassured of your past accomplishments.”
“I’m bored, anyway. It’s too easy when my biggest decision is choosing which life to possess. One may say I have zero-world problems.”
“I can tell you, you won’t be so smug as you are now. You will spend many nights wondering how to continue. Perhaps you won’t want to, your pain so great. Do you still accept to write, to practise your measly craft for no one? The dead will bargain with you, offering one fine stone sunk in mud. Why pursue such things? It’s rather pointless, if you ask me. You will be a muzzled dog. Your flesh will be ripped to the bone, and blood spilled to the roots of trees. It’s not only anguish you will experience, but physical pain like no other. What will you do, then?”
“Write.”
“Your previous lives were much easier, you understand? You were well known and respected. You enjoyed many luxuries. This life won’t compare. Deserving you aren’t. You will hate me and I will hate you. You will beg for aid and I will only challenge you further. Still accept?”
“As long as you keep me company.”
“You will forsake my company. You will commune with the sightless—you will voice the voiceless. They will deceive you… They will turn on you.”
“A friend’s a friend.”
“Listen! You will be torn between worlds. Life, as people live it, won’t be had. You will speak two languages in one. All your words are already frayed. On no sure ground will you tread. Navigate must you the dark. Got it?”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“I accept these conditions.”
“Fool!”
“I know!”
“Why not ask for something easier?”
“Well… make me an offer.”
“Consider this: I will give you powers unlimited—any you wish. I can make you invisible, to circumnavigate the mobs at your door, peeking through your blinds. Does that not entice you?”
“It does.”
“I can make you soar, to assail all opposition, to live where you please, in the remotest of places, on the roofs of great cities: Tokyo, Alexandria, Los Angeles. Wherever you desire, you may travel in an instant. You could avoid all troubles with these powers. Why wouldn’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You may ransack the black temples of Earth. Repay those who mocked you, day and night. Steal for good, liberate the downtrodden. Punish you, I won’t. Is this not the wisest route? Drink the finest vintages. Wrap yourself in precious silks. I can do all of this for you, if you only ask.”
“Surely, it must be a trap!”
“No trap. Simply sign the contract.”
“Ah. Let me see the fine print.”
“All is in bold. You get this life, you get these powers, you may rid the world of evil… My only condition is, after 30 years, you are reclaimed.”
“Reclaimed? How so?”
“My servant will come for you. You will know their name; they won’t be late. 30 years is more than enough time. You will write, you will spread the word. But then, you will be purposed to eternal suffering, the likes of which no living soul can fathom, as you will burn anew each turn, never with tolerance, so pain consumes every part of you, body and soul, forever and ever. I will preserve your body; death will provide no relief. You’ll simply continue as a vessel for unimaginable suffering… But, until then, do whatever you want on Earth! Sounds better than suffering in life, does it not?”
“Not at all.”
“Why? You will have powers like no other.”
“I may endure all suffering, by returning to you through writing.”
Turn all white.
“Very well. So you accept this life, without powers, with all suffering and neglect aforementioned?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay… Okay… One final thing, then, before you go.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you accept our site’s cookies?”
“… I see no harm in that.”
“Good. They are quite harmless; they’re mostly just innate data to make life a bit easier and help us keep track of you. So be it! I will allot you this existence, trusting you will do your best to fulfill the negotiated terms. Do you have any final questions for me? Blips of me will reveal themselves in time.”
“When can I start?”
“Right now.”
“So be it.”
“It shall be.”
Fall to.
Brandon delivered a reading of this piece during the Acceptance Panel at the 2023 Fraser Valley Writers Festival.
Brandon Reid holds a B.Ed. from UBC with a specialization in Indigenous education, and a journalism diploma from Langara College. His work has been published in All Lit Up, the Richmond Review and The Province. He is a member of the Heiltsuk First Nation, with a mix of Indigenous and English ancestry. He resides in Richmond, BC, where he works as a TTOC. In his spare time, he enjoys cooking, playing music and listening to comedy podcasts. His debut novel, Beautiful Beautiful, was published with Nightwood Editions in fall 2023.