[ WP ] You 're sitting at a bus stop alone waiting for the last bus to arrive on your way home , a stranger appears and hands you a small metallic contraption and says `` Its your responsibility now '' ...

Isaac hated working the closing shift. If he were being honest he hated working any shift. `` What a joke, thirty years old and selling cell phone cases at the fucking mall,'' he berated himself, `` Guess all those teachers who said I did n't apply myself knew what the hell they were talkining about.'' Closing was an extra pain in the ass because the busses ran less frequently after nine pm. That meant a half hour layover on Burnside, not the nicest street in Portland. 
 
 To make matters worse it was Tuesday, the slowest day for retail. The cases were junk but Isaac had managed to sell one plastic shell to a naieve teen girl for thirty-five dollars. He happened to know his manager ordered them direct from China for about fifty cents a piece. Isaac did n't like it but he made a whole two percent commission on everything he sold, which translated into a few extra cents tacked on to his meager paycheck come Friday. It was his job to rip off strangers, this was his responsibity. 
 
 What did he have to look forward to after a shit day? A messy, cramped studio apartment. Upon opening door eighty-nine he would be greeted by two aging misbehaved cats that refused to die and a more than likely drunk fiance. She was probably waiting to tear into him and make him feel like the world's biggest piece of shit for not washing the dishes on his last day off. He would n't debate he was undoubtedly a piece of shit. A failed writer... a failed everything really, and a lazy pot-head. 
 
 He let out a resigned sigh as he approached the bench on Burnside, near China town. `` Thank god, at least a homeless person has n't claimed it as their bed tonight, not yet anyway,'' he thought. The street was eerily empty. No homeless at all, no junkies that had long ago lost their minds to heroin or some other nameless drug. `` God damn it!'' He was shouting a second later as he sat in a puddle of what he could only hope was water. Isaac did n't even attempt getting up to let it dry out. `` Fuck it,'' he mumbled, `` let it marinate.'' 
 
 Checking his phone he saw it would be another twenty-five minutes until the bus arrived. He plucked out a Newport and set it ablaze. One of his last great pleasures, and it would kill some time. A spot of life was approaching him. A hunched over old man pushing a tarp covered shopping cart. 
 
 `` Excuse me son,'' The old man wheezed as he neared. 
 
 `` Last one,'' Isaac interrupted holding up his half finished smoke. It was a lie, he had five still safely stashed in a pack. 
 
 `` Oh child, I do n't smoke,'' the old man sputtered,'' just was wondering if I could interest you in a bauble.'' He was already rummaging through his cart. 
 
 `` Sorry but my bus will be here any minute'' Isaac said. 
 
 `` Just let me show you what I have to offer,'' he insisted. 
 
 Isaac new he was right. The best way to deal with these vagrants was to listen to their piece, take whatever dirty, disease ridden street art they handed you and cough up a buck. Isaac did n't have a buck, he did n't have a penny. 
 
 The bum apparently had dug out Isaacs intended prize from the cart. He clutched it tightly in his right palm. Isaac felt compelled to hold out his hands. A tiny, cold, silver cube hit his skin. The old man wore a huge grin brimming with yellowed teeth as Isaac looked up at him. 
 
 `` I have nothing to give old man.'' 
 
 `` You've already given all that you have'' He said, sounding a bit more energized. 
 
 `` What the shit is that supposed to mean?'' Isaac asked, but the old man was already walking away. `` Hey,'' he shouted, what is this thing?'' 
 
 The old man stopped, turned around and loudly proclaimed, `` It's your responsibility now.'' He continued on his way with newfound purpose. Isaac could almost detect a spring in his step. The old man had n't even taken his cart with him. Isaac turned the peculiar cube over and over in his hands, it was no bigger than a cigarette lighter. Isaac went and tore the tarp off the cart expecting to find a thousand replicas of the object. Nothing. The cart was empty. No recyclables, no clothes, no alcohol and no fucking metal cubes 
 
 `` God damned strange,'' he thought. This was Portland though, and one thing the city certainly was n't short of was strange. He saw the glow of his bus approaching and almost wiped the bizarre event from his mind. He boarded and took a seat near the back. `` For Christ's sake,'' he grumbled. Isaac had forgotten his ass was soaking wet until he sat again. He stood up instead. He dug into his pocket and produced the cube. There were two tiny knotches on each end he had n't noticed before. He pryed them with his fingernails and they popped open. 
 
 A blue light eminated from the openings. It quickly enveloped Isaac. He looked down, startled to see he was no longer standing on the bus. He was n't standing on anything. There was litteraly nothing but the light. He watched as Hjs fingers disintegrated becoming particles of light, it spread through him and soon he was the light. 
 
 Where once there was nothing, there was now everything. Every place and every instant from the beginning of time until the end was seeable. All at once he knew the terrible truth. He had become God. So much pain and hurt and chaos everywhere in the world. He did n't know where to start, but this was his job now. This was his responsibility. 
 
 
 *edited for typos
