Hiding in secret was an old man. A man so old, nobody was left to remember him, or his birthday. He remained "the Old Man", a lonely man, reaching the age of 200, in isolation, in paranoia. But God gives rewards to those he considers diligent, and so he sent down an angel to let Old Man Jeremiah shape his own version of the world in the man's image.
The old man looked through the blinds. Somehow, in 200 years, he was still a functional human being, though just barely. He didn't need a nurse, but everything always took so damn long for him to do. At least he rarely got hungry anymore. His pasty skin almost searing at the sight of sunlight. He let the blinds shutter, as he moved away from the window, jealousy burning bright within him. The kids outside, with their young athletic bodies, wasting it away on their phones. Oh what he would give to have a body like that again.
A bright light behind him, blinding in radiance.
"Jeremiah."
"Ah. Have I died?" The old man was quick to assume, not even bothering to turn around. He was excited, but wouldn't show it, his stubbornness getting the best of him. He had wanted death for so long, even if he was afraid of it. But being taken by an angel? That was a worthy death. He had no family, no friends to revel in this. They were long gone. But he would find his sweet release.
"No." The old man's disappointment was immeasurable.
"Instead, we have given you something better, a worthy gift for your survival thus far." Jeremiah grunted. He had lived long enough to see wars rise and fall, composers write and die. Yet here he still lived. He had travelled the world, and seen nearly everything. So what could god give him that made the long life, and an even longer life worthwhile?
"You will be given your own world, separate from this one that has forgotten you. In there, you will be able to command it, shape it, and reset it however you'd like. Be anyone, change anyone, rule everyone. That is the gift god has given you. Already you enter this world, but to accept this gift, you must lay in bed, and close your eyes." Sounded like death to Jeremiah. But how did he know? Don't shoot a gift horse in the mouth, his ma had said.
"Your ma was wise." Don't read my head.
"Apologies. Now, go to sleep. The next time you wake up, you will have the power to master your own world." Jeremiah sighed, taking slow, aching steps to bed. Sleep was painful, so he didn't do much of it these days. Maybe this was a hallucination, right before death. He didn't know. But he listened to the angel's words, and crawled into bed.
As he drifted off into painless sleep, the best sleep he'd had in a very long time, he remembered something.
"Ah. It's my birthday..." And thus he drifted off, his dreamworld awaiting.