One January Morning, Part 26

The moment that a deity realizes who He is, the moment that He realizes He can heal the gash in His neck as easily as He rolled the twenty-sided die that turned Him into a Skee-Ball-playing schmuck named Morgan for His weekend’s leave—that moment is fun to watch. In the blink of my eye, Morgan the Schmuck is gone and the white-bearded, Hestonesque Patriarch of my imagination has taken his place.

“The guy I killed,” stutters Morgan the Pirate, “was fucking God?”

“Not fucking God,” says God. “God.”

“I was using it as an adjective,” she spits, incredulous.

His reply: a shit-eating grin. He knows. Of course he knows.

To be continued…


This month, January 2015, I’m telling one story day-by-day, inspired by cards from the Writer Emergency Pack. To read the next paragraph a day early, support me on Patreon.