More from Gilgamesh

Gilgamesh doubts everything now. He doubts that he’s laying in a garden of gems and precious ores, that he’s running through meadows and shape-shifting, that he ever saw or heard gods. He doubts even that he lived, that he was a prince, that he ruled a city known as Erech. All of it is the faint of echo of a myth he heard in childhood. He thinks he’s an ordinary man lost in someone else's dream.

Excerpt from my Untitled Novel about Gilgamesh

Ea. Ninmah. Utu. NinSun. You’ve made Gilgamesh restless, so that ever he looks upon a moment that his heart anxiously seeks out the next. If he could he’d spread his body thin as air and blanket the whole world, and still it would not be enough for him, for his restlessness would push him outward and inward so that he could be the stars and the space between them and the hot core of magma beating like a heart inside the earth. Let him wait but this one moment. Let time stop but for one breath so that your son, Gilgamesh, may see my face and know I am real.