God’s Problem

God sat on her red, quilted cushion to think. She summoned up a glass of iced tea, the homemade kind, the kind you pretend you like when out with other adults. She sipped and pondered, pondered and sipped, and tried to solve her problem. Hare passed by. She addressed Hare.

“Lo there, Hare, let me ask you a question.”

“Of course, my Lady.”

“Call me God, please,” she encouraged, with a smile. “I have a problem, Hare, and I’m not sure what to do about it. It’s to do with…down there.” She gestured, embarrassedly.

“Oh…” Hare quivered slightly. He struggled for what to say. “Well, you know, when I have a problem, I have a nap. It always comes to me after a good nap. And some lemongrass…Mmm…You don’t have any do you? Some lemongrass?”

“Not on me, but I can-” But Hare was gone, the dust from his big, paddle-feet clouding the air of heaven. God sat, dejected, the problem swelling up in her mind and there were thunderstorms in the Gambia. Suddenly, Crow flew past, circling God’s drooped head. Crow hesitantly landed, approaching the sad figure with her feathered arms crossed in reverence.

“Is something..the matter, my Lady?” God saw the bird and smiled at her, tired of the clashing in her right brain.

“God, please. And yes, for I have a problem. Could you help me? Gal to gal.”

“Oh, of- of course, my Lady… I mean, God, haha! Ahem. What’s the issue?”

“Well it’s…it’s a bit…personal. It’s something only gods get…down there.” Again, the customary gesture.

“Oh, I see…”

“Dear Crow, perhaps you cannot help me. Perhaps this will all be over your shiny, charcoal head.” Crow looked, heart-broken, down at the ground, but God felt her pain and scooped up a thousand ripe worms from the air and shovelled them in front of Crow, whose eyes lit up.

“Oh my Lady! My babies will never go hungry with this generous bounty! Thank you so much!”

“On your way now, Crow. Eat well.” God smiled and sent her companion flying yonder, a wrapping of worms in her claws. Once more alone, God began to mull her situation in a far more pessimistic, anarchic mood. How to get the humans to stop worshipping her so her body didn’t swallow itself from the downstairs inwards…or…outwards, bursting into a grape of latent power, never to be retrieved, or if retrieved, sold on the Star Market for idle hands to clasp and ruin a few galaxies with.

“God? Is that you?” She snapped up her head and saw before her Eve, glamorous as ever, licking her full lips with a kind of rabid excitement.

“Eve! Hi!” They hugged and discussed how long it had been, though Eve quickly gauged that there was something on her omnipotent friend’s mind.

“What is it, hun? Something up?” God made a face of resignation, her ethereal power glittering in the late day light.

“Ah just god stuff.”

“Wanna talk about it?” They sat down together, with a coffee table and another cushion having appeared at God’s behest. They drank coffee and settled. While they spoke, Eve twirled her deep brown curls, fascinated by the rules of godhood.

“As they worship me, I grow in mass. My gravitational pull increases – haven’t you seen how Heaven has expanded recently? That wasn’t just roadworks and gentrification, that was my celestial body attracting others to it! And as I grow, my…uh… parts, hurt. I think I’m swallowing myself as I expand…somehow…” God trailed off, confused.

“Babe, listen to me. You are a beautiful woman with curves and stretch-marks and wrinkles. You are a form. You are you, and no-one can take that away.”

“But I’m going to pop, Eve! All this praise, commendation, prayer – even when I haven’t done anything! I ignore prayers a lot more than they think I do, trust me.” Eve did not judge, just nodded sagely and placed her hand on God’s ample, and growing, knee.
“Then G, you’re just going to have to do something to get them to stop. Drop a big-ass asteroid on them or something, make all the kids be born with one eye or set fire to the sky. You’re the most powerful being in this Universe! There are countless things…” At this point, Eve was gesticulating so excitedly that the few splashes of coffee remaining flew out of her cup and onto her unshaved leg, steaming a little. Eve cursed.

“That’s what I’ll do!” God cried. “A flood!”

“Ugh, really? That’s so…”

“So what?”

“Just like…not aesthetic. Too soggy. Too wet.” God rolled her eyes and dipped the Earth in space water, the atmosphere and gravity trapping it within the sphere. Most of the people of Earth forgot God for three generations after this, and some never remembered her again. God shrank with lack of worship, and adopted the body of an athletic 17-year-old, in which she paraded round the gardens of Heaven, and all the animals lauded her transformation. But their adoration did not carry the calories that human worship does, and thus God remained slim until blind faith returned to the humans, with the advent of lying.

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