Tell A Tale in 500 Words
My God Uses the F-Word By Kimberly Collins
I have to tell you about the dream I had last night! I remember I was out for a run. Maybe in the highlands? Except that everything was brown and dead. In the distance was this old guy, kind of hunched over at the side of the trail. I ran past, but turned back when I heard him mumbling something. When I got closer, I realised who he was. And, holy shit! It was Him! And you know what He said? He said, “Fuck You.”
I started jogging in place and said, “Excuse me?” I must have misheard Him. But, He said it again! I was definitely getting berated by a deity. I looked right at Him. He had these hauntingly blue eyes. “I actually have no idea what you mean,” I said. He started to look away. I continued, “I am a good person. I go to work, I pay my bills, I love my kids, I love my partner.” His eyes returned to mine and said those two profane words, again.
I have never had an audience with God, so instead of telling Him to “bugger off,” I continued my defence. “I’m not the problem. I read the papers, I give to charity, I visit my nan. I understand you have a lot be be upset about, but I’m not the hate. I’m not the violence. I do not build the walls.” I looked for Him to react, but He had moved to a small patch of grass. I hadn’t noticed it was there, hidden behind all the brown-dusted hills. He was raking the blades like the sand of a Japanese zen garden. He stopped for a moment to look at me again. With a voice of resignation, He said, “Fuck You.”
“Look,” I said. “I forgot to pause my watch and this exchange is throwing off my average speed. Let’s talk tomorrow. How do I reach you? Prayer? Hallucinogens?” But He ignored my request and kept to his patch of grass. He didn’t even look up, which is a shame, because I desperately wanted those eyes to see me again. Instead, He sighed and repeated those two words.
Finally, I said to Him, “I’m under a lot of pressure. I have so much to do. And I’m scared. Scared of losing my money, losing my health. I’m scared of dying. And I’m so anxious. It’s medically confirmed. So, I really have to stay away from things that upset me. I have to go. I have a run to finish and I have so much to do.”
“But, you do nothing,” He said.
He started to walk away. But, I woke up before He actually left. Which is good because, I really don’t want to know what happens when He leaves.
Crazy dream, huh?
So, what should we do today? A bit of Prosecco and pizza sounds nice.
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