twists and time

his face was aged, and i stood at a loss for words.
"do not be afraid," came his leathery voice (wrinkled, soft as butter), "i have come to bring you a gift."
he stretched out his arms, and in the hems of his cloak, a universe appeared.
"god asked me to give this to you," he whispered into my ear. "he asked me to deliver it personally. this universe is yours to take care of, a responsibility as much as a blessing. give it your love and attention, and it will grow." he said this all so seriously, his eyes locked into mine, his face (so weathered, time pressed into the folds) almost pleading.
"i have searched for you my whole life. now i can rest."
he wrapped the cloak around my shoulders, and before i could protest (excuses: youth, naïveté), he burst into dust and flew away on the wind.

pinned inside the cloak, between one galaxy and another, was a handwritten note.
"je suis fragile. soyez gentille."

and that's how i became the steward of a universe.