There he was, sitting alone in his room, playing with a few toys he got a couple of years ago from the neighbors during Christmas. It was his birthday today. Teladon celebrated it every year. As usual, Teladon sat with his toy truck going back and forth and his plane a few feet away lying on the ground, yearning to be played with. The start to a good,although typical, evening. The room was dimly lit, so as he spoke to his figurines he had to strain to follow their still and cold blue and brown eyes. They watched him clearly. Whispering phantasmal delights into the ears of the willing still borns, he launched into his night of bliss. This was his debauchery. Though it may seem tame and it may seem boring, this was what he did. This was his night, not only on this night, but every night and better yet on every day. He was perpetually staring into the eyes of his figurines in a dimly lit room, alone, with all those who cared. Alone with the cold shiny plastic of friends and foes, here he was living a life of adventure. Living.
Everyone had long since forgotten today was a day. Everyone else forgot today was a day for Teladon. Teladon was turning infinity this year and it was an especially important day. Being such an important day, he needed to live it as best he could.
He did so alone. He did so without imposing his existence’s idea onto the living, who glossily continued life. It would be unfair to expect them to remember. Teladon was infinity now. No one would ever need to remember his birthday again. The 7 inch figurine’s plastic gaze, transfixed, was enough to satisfy his wants. The airplane a few feet away sat ever motionless, waiting to be played with.
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