[Setting]
It’s a crisp evening, and Elliot is sitting on a park bench, trying to enjoy a quiet moment. Claire has gone to grab them both a coffee, and Elliot’s grateful for the peace and the predictability of the moment—no coincidences, no unexpected encounters. Just a normal bench, in a normal park.
Until, of course, it’s not.
The God of Coincidence appears as if out of nowhere, casually leaning on the back of the bench, dressed in a trench coat that makes them look like a detective from an old noir film. Elliot doesn’t even jump anymore. He just sighs deeply.
Elliot (deadpan, not turning around): “Let me guess. You’ve got another story to tell.”
Coincidence (grinning, sliding onto the bench beside him): “Oh, you read my mind! Or perhaps it’s just another happy coincidence. Either way, it’s story time, my dear Elliot.”
Elliot (glancing over, skeptical): “Right. So, what ridiculous tale have you got for me this time?”
The god doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, they pull a shiny pocket watch out of their trench coat, looking at it with exaggerated interest before tucking it away again. They clear their throat dramatically.
Coincidence: “This is the tale of a man—a man like any other, and yet… not. This man, let’s call him… oh, I don’t know, Charles. Or maybe Charlie. Doesn’t really matter. Last week—or was it last year? Or next week? Time’s funny like that—this man found himself in a very peculiar situation.”
Elliot raises an eyebrow, already suspicious.
Coincidence: “Charlie was, by all appearances, just an ordinary fellow. The kind of guy you might pass on the street without a second thought. But there was something… different about him. You see, Charlie was used to being important—though no one would guess it to look at him now. Once upon a time, people called him a king. They bowed to him, listened to his every word, assumed he had all the answers. But as is often the way with kings and with coincidences, things changed. The kingdom crumbled, or maybe it was never really there at all—just a figment of imagination, a series of lucky turns mistaken for leadership.”
The god looks at Elliot, as if gauging his reaction. Elliot squints, trying to decide if there’s a point to all this.
Elliot (frowning): “So this… Charlie guy was a king, but no one knew it?”
Coincidence (nodding sagely): “Exactly! Except, perhaps, for one person—a young traveler who met him in a quiet park. A traveler who felt, deep down, that this ordinary-looking man was anything but ordinary. The traveler couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew Charlie from somewhere—that they’d crossed paths before, or maybe they would in the future.”
Elliot shifts on the bench, uncomfortable. The god’s words are starting to sound eerily familiar.
Coincidence: “Charlie, you see, had a certain way about him. A way that made even the simplest encounters feel… significant. Like they carried weight, even if it was only the weight of a shared moment. He told the traveler a story—a story of goats and feasts, of plans gone awry, and the simple joy of embracing the unexpected.”
Elliot (squinting, leaning in): “Wait… goats? Feasts? You’re saying this happened last week?”
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Coincidence (grinning broadly): “Or maybe it’s about to happen tomorrow. Or maybe it’s happening right now, somewhere else. Who can say? Time is a funny thing—it folds, it bends, it occasionally does a little jig.”
Elliot groans, rubbing his forehead.
Elliot: “Alright, alright. So let me get this straight—this guy, Charlie, used to be a king. Now he’s just some random dude, but there’s still something about him that feels… familiar?”
Coincidence (tapping their nose with a wink): “Oh, precisely! And when our dear traveler met him, there was a spark of recognition—a glimmer, if you will, that perhaps this man was not so regular after all. But the funny thing about coincidence, Elliot, is that you can never quite tell if you’re seeing something for the first time or remembering it from a dream.”
They pause, leaning back against the bench, their eyes distant.
Coincidence: “Charlie told the traveler something important—though whether the traveler understood it or not, well… that’s another question entirely. He said that even kings, even those who once held power, are just players in the grand dance of chaos. The goat, the scepter, the misplaced feast—it all means nothing and everything, depending on how you choose to see it.”
Elliot’s eyes widen slightly. There’s something in the god’s tone, something that makes him feel like this isn’t just a random story. He’s about to ask when the god continues.
Coincidence (suddenly standing up, stretching): “And then, just like that, the traveler blinked, and Charlie was gone. But not before leaving behind a question—a question that lingered long after the traveler left the park. Was Charlie just a man? Or was he something more? And why did the traveler feel like they had met before?”
Elliot (sitting up, pointing at the god): “Wait, wait. Are you saying that this… this could be about me? That I’m the traveler?”
The god looks down at Elliot, their expression utterly blank for a moment. Then they lean forward, their eyes twinkling mischievously.
Coincidence (in a mock-serious voice): “Oh, really, Elliot? Do you think I’d tell you a story about you before it even happened? That seems… highly coincidental, don’t you think?”
Elliot stares at them, the pieces slowly clicking into place. His mind races back to the familiar feeling he’d had about the man in the story, the mention of goats, of being a king.
Elliot (narrowing his eyes, suspicious): “You’re messing with me. Again. Aren’t you?”
The god shrugs, smiling as they straighten up, brushing imaginary dust off their trench coat.
Coincidence: “Well, that depends. Would you be more or less intrigued if I said yes?”
Elliot opens his mouth, then closes it, his frustration palpable. He sighs heavily, leaning back against the bench, shaking his head.
Elliot: “You know what? I’m not even going to ask. I’m just going to wait and see what ridiculous thing happens next.”
Coincidence (nodding approvingly): “Ah, that’s the spirit, my dear Elliot. Embrace the unpredictability! Who knows, you might just meet a king tomorrow, or perhaps a goat with philosophical insights.”
Elliot rolls his eyes as Claire returns, holding two steaming cups of coffee. She looks between Elliot and the god, her brow furrowed.
Claire (handing Elliot his coffee): “Did I miss something? You look… annoyed.”
Elliot (taking the coffee, sighing): “Just the usual. Another story that probably makes more sense tomorrow than it does today.”
Coincidence (grinning, tipping their hat to Claire): “Ah, Claire, lovely to see you again. Keep an eye on this one, will you? He’s about to have quite the adventure.”
Claire raises an eyebrow, looking at Elliot.
Claire: “I thought we were just having a quiet evening?”
Elliot (sighing deeply): “Yeah, well, apparently that’s not in the cards. Not when this one’s around.”
Coincidence (laughing, giving a mock bow): “And with that, I take my leave. Remember, Elliot—coincidences are just events waiting for you to see the connection.”
With a flourish, they turn and walk away, whistling a tune that sounds oddly like a theme song from an old TV show. Elliot watches them go, shaking his head.
Claire (sitting beside him, her voice gentle): “You alright?”
Elliot (taking a sip of his coffee, sighing): “Yeah. I just… I get the feeling I’m about to meet someone. Someone important. Or at least… someone with a story to tell.”
Claire (smiling, nudging him playfully): “Well, let’s hope they’re less confusing than that one.”
Elliot (laughing softly): “Yeah… one can hope.”
They sit there for a moment, the evening settling in around them, and Elliot can’t help but feel a strange anticipation building—like the story he just heard wasn’t really over, but only just beginning.
[End Scene]
[retcon:1]