The ground shook as he stepped. It wasn't just the power of his foot that made the Earth tremble before him, but the enourmous weight on his shoulders. It was more than the usual mass a man carries; it was the strain of a symbol and the load of a legend.
He was walking along a deserted highway. No man-made object could be seen north or south, save one. Battered and beat up farmland stretched beyond his sight east and west. He couldn't tell what time it was; he left the house with no phone or watch, and the overcast sky above gave him no answers. After his previous employment, filled with hectic schedules and constant reverberations, he relished any opportunity for peace and quiet. But this soundlessness left an uneasy feeling deep within his gut. He wondered what happened to the people...he hadn't left them long, he'd only been away a few weeks, and already he heard their cries for help, he felt their fear...but their reclamation was coming soon, so he continued to walk, he saw his destination a few miles ahead.
He needed to get away to clear his head, so he came to the perfect place for privacy. This was his citadel of seclusion. It was always a place where he could prepare himself for what was to come next. What was once distantly outlined had now become clear and present: a large brown building, old and rusted, dilapidated, and full of memories. He pushed the door open and entered his sanctuary. Hardwood floor squeaked as he walked along. The smell of sweat and defeat and jubilation filled his nose. He could see the emblems imortalizing triumphant heroes cascading from the steel columns above. The seats given to potential onlookers sat cold and abandoned, but he imagined them once being crowded with faces of euphoria, watching feverantly with bated breath. He parked himself in a chair, front row and centered, and let go.
What was he to do now? What was his purpose? He always knew that before. He had been blessed with an understanding of what to do, and how to do it. There had never been a time when he didn't know what his heart wanted, or what his mind commanded. Whether it be in life, or love, or international intrigue, he always understood his role in the world and always overcame any semblance of doubt or worry in order to do what was right. He had be raised that way. His mother had taught him the value of a moral compass that never strayed from honerable intentions. Her words still rang true all these years later, deep within the far reaches of his memory...
"To find harmony, you must see it in, and let it out"
...that's why his mother had entrusted him with a secret, a secret that no one could ever know: that he was from beyond, that he came to these lands from across great distances, and that he alone could create a better world for all humankind. He had lived with this burden his entire life. He had married a wonderful woman, raised beautiful children, and never wandered from his duty to protect the innocent, safeguard the helpless, and bring justice to all those who offend. When his mother came upon him he was just a baby, but she could sense his importance, she could feel his destiny. She raised him like a normal child, trying her best to ignore his obvious extraordinary abilities. Before long though her child was stronger than anyone, faster than anyone, and had the capability to help everyone. He felt the needs of others deep inside his heart. His soul ached for the will to assist people with their problems, and lead them towards their dreams. He was the living breathing bastion of society's hope for a better tomorrow.
Now though, he couldn't see the path that lay before his feet. For the past eight years, the path was clear, it was obtainable, it was ever present. The next step was alluding him, and he was beginning to grow anxious if not impatient. He had done so much, but still the world continued to flounder and the people continued to falter. He had shown them the way to harmony, and yet they had chosen dissonance. They had appointed a man they didn't fully understand who, as far as he could see, had only seized power to fufill his own personal and professional ambitions. He thought the people could be trusted, that their judgement was strong, that the strength they put forward would lead them to truth and righteousness. Only now he was starting to question the people, and worse yet, question himself. Why should he have all this power? What had he really done with it? Sure he had ended armed conflicts abroad, stabalized struggling people at home, and brought a sense of wellness to millions of his followers. But he could have done so much more. He felt he could still do so much more. But what?
His protruding ears heard a distant voice that required his attention. He may have been the only living being around for miles, but that would never stop him from answering this call. In one rapid motion, he rose into the air and left his tranquil isolation through a open window. Wind streaked by, sound shattered through, light could not escape his momentus movment. The sky seemed to rip apart at the seams as he broke every possible physical law of aeronautics. Within seconds he was hovering above his home, and he let his feet touch the ground ever so gently.
A statuesque woman was walking towards him.
"Barack, where have you been?"
"Sorry Michelle, I was away for a bit. But now I'm back."
