God, Beach, Jim, Imponderables

Wednesday, September 28th 2011

God lay back on the deckchair and smiled slightly.

The sun was going down. But the sand of the beach was still releasing heat. So he just lay there absorbing it.

God heard footsteps behind Him.

"G'day," said a voice.

God opened one eye.

"I'm Jim," said a guy.

"Eh?" said God. He wasn't feeling sociable.

"You're God aren't you," said the guy.

"I am?"

"You are."

God preferred to keep things on the down low. So he sat up and emanated charismatic insouciance.

"I don't think so," said God.

"I know you are," said Jim.

And God knew Jim knew. Because God knew everything. Mind you, he knew this conversation was going to happen. In fact, as he wasn't bound by time and space, the conversation had already happened, was happening and would happen. And he had previously scripted it and not scripted it.

"Okay," said God. "Busted."

"You don't seem very God-like," said Jim.

God shrugged. "You wanted a throne, beard, or something?"

"Nah, I just expected ... something ... more otherworldly."

"But I created the world," said God. "And so I am of it."

God got off the deckchair and stood up.

"You don't even have very God-like abdominals," said Jim.

God chuckled. He thought that line worked quite well. Although he'd actually written it ... so he lacked objectivity. No, actually, he didn't. He saw every perspective simultaneously. And ...

"So what's it like being a God," said Jim.

"The God," said God. "There's just me."

"And you're all knowing and all powerful?"

"I move in mysterious ways," said God, rolling up his towel. "And this world is what I decide it is. And there is no decision. It just is."

And with that Jim disappeared. The beach dissolved and God went out for dinner. Something Mexican. Something new. He had decided to make it something he had never had before. Although, of course, he had.

Although this time he was going as an ostrich-donkey with a giant cycloptic eye. Although he'd done that aleady, too.

And with that, God traipsed down a dusk draped street leaving golden footsteps behind him.

And it started raining imponderables.