In an otherwise normal room,
there is a question, one subjective
mystery posed for me by
a very suspicious boy of twelve.
He claims to have once been God and
to have failed in attempt to poison me
with slanderous lies about grace
and forgiveness and love. Two
sides to every story, but
did I ever give God a chance to
break through? He asked me very
sweetly like a boy who had
once been good might have. My
voice caught on to my surprise
and cautiously I made my soft reply.
"But I am an anthiest, bred
by extremists, in a world of
hatred fueled by an innate love for sin
Despite their contamination
and reckless tendencies, most people
can't help but grab on to a lie
as beautiful and promising as God's."
He smiled, apparantly complimented
but missing the point entirely, I thought.
"You misunderstand, God's lie was a
crutch for weak people to lean upon
and use to stab into
the minds of those like me."
He then turned on the heels of
his sneakers and walked from the room,
leaving his boy-scent behind.
In my confusion, I followed him carefully
treading behind him at a frightened pace.
We walked on for miles to a place that
I'd been to a couple of times when
people had died. We were in a grave-
yard, he stood on a casket,
my name on the gravestone. He turned
and said, "I knew you once."
Copyright: Meagan Jeanette 2002