I graded in the clouds this morning, far above the city I love, feeling like an Olympian God: a retired Olympian God, who grew tired, one day, of his own world-historical significance. He just wasn’t feeling it anymore. Just wasn’t for him: the whole Alpha-Male, King-of-the-Mountain thing. So he traded in the corner-office, the power-suit and the perks, for a cooking class, some Netflix, and a love of butterflies. He gave up the whole thunder-and-lightning, Angry-Sky-God thing, to become a high-school drama teacher, with a receding hairline, coffee breath, and brown leather shoes. This is what happens, you see, when a cloud swallows a mountain.
—John Faithful Hamer, From Here (2016)