Can you try writing for positive beanie guy or prophet? :-))
You're carrying a bag on your shoulder.Â
Should you take off your other shoe? You lost the first one what could've only been… a couple of days ago, right? Right. Your shoe. It's making your gait kind of awkward.
You're carrying yourself to a house.
Maybe you're a little off-balance, but there's probably no reason to lose your remaining shoe. It's hardly going to be consequential either way. Unless it is, at which point you'll be told whether to keep it or not, and then you'll listen.
Who are you listening to right now?
A voice, jeering about a "lunatic asshole" finds itself at the front of your mind. This is ostensibly due to the source of the voice also being in front of you- just, physically.
"Don't even bother, this is the wrong house," he tells you. You nod in understanding before realizing you don't actually understand why he shared that with you.
You pause and ask him. "How do you know that?"
"How? Man, I wish I asked myself that when I thought I had to be here in the first place! Get this, perfect picture in my head, this house, my buddy, my memories. Of course I have no reason to doubt the voice tellin' me to come visit and check up on him, it's in my head - but bam! I roll all the way out here and that jackass doesn't even let me in! Whatever voice told you to look for him's probably a piece of shit too. Wish you could throw them out the same way you can with people, huh? HAH. Yeah."
That's a lot to take in at once. His rant isn't entirely nonsensical though, it just takes you a bit to think on what he said. Then you think about it again. And again.
It's probably just a coincidence. You're fairly certain you are the only messenger sent by Her to this house and it's tenant. You know your goal and you know you have to be in the right place, too. Something about this place feels important. More than important, familiar.
You didn't think you already knew this place. Maybe you did, though? No, you haven't met the Hermit before. But how do you know to call him the Hermit? You don't think She told you that. It's hard to differentiate what you know because She's told you and what you know because you're… you. Whoever that is, or was, or may become.
As your thoughts once again become louder than the world around you, you miss the man muttering something else as he wheels off. You feel the distinct suggestion of caves, for some reason. You figure you'll find out later, if it's important.
You ring the bell. You meet someone for not the first time.
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