By Isaac R. T.

One day, Orion and God decided to watch the waves from the cliff. Well, that’s not completely true. It was really more God’s decision. Orion had been resting in God’s pile of cigarettes after his walk back from Arnold’s grave, and he had dozed off. Even after all this time, he was still surprised at how something so vile could be so comfortable. It was a peaceful, heavy sleep. The kind that only creeps up onto you after a long, busy day. When he awoke, he saw God sitting on the cliff, tilting their long neck down ever so slightly. It didn’t necessarily look dangerous, but it was worrying to Orion. He crept up beside God and took a seat. 

“Didja miss me?” Orion asked. 

“I need to find a way to live,” said God. 

Orion paused for a moment. “What?” He replied, furrowing his eyebrows. 

God looked directly into the sinking sun and said, “It’s strange. I’ve been alive for billions of years, and I’ve spent all that time searching in vain for some sense of fulfillment. I’m always reaching out to a dim light in this land of swirling gray mist. Each time I get close to it, my legs fail me, the fog thickens, and I’m facing the darkness again with my eyes closed, still empty. It’s so easy to just slip back into that sleepy, meandering state where nothing matters. The problem is, that tug always returns. I feel it at the back of my skull, and it reminds me that I can’t be done yet. I still have work to do. Honestly, I don’t even know why I try. Once I start to live, I’ll have to think about what I want to do and who I want to be. I won’t have an objective any more. To live, I need something to drive me. I’ll inevitably regress back to where I am now. Maybe I’ll find what I need in you. In all of my time here, you’re the only person who showed me real kindness. Everyone else is either terrified, disgusted, or worse, reverent. That’s the worst one. When did any of you learn to worship me? I am nothing, and I’ve done nothing. You, Orion, treated me like a person. You talk with me. You listen to me. You watch my sun set with me.” 

God took a breath, regaining their composure.

 Orion felt something in his chest. It was like the chaos of the waves below him, but it felt alive. It felt like it wanted to be freed. It shook the bars of its cage and tried to scream through its duct tape gag. 

“You’re my friend,” God said, finally turning their head to look at Orion. 

Orion felt the feeling in his chest building. Now it was not one cage with one prisoner, but a dungeon. The prisoners writhed in their bonds and let out a cacophony of groans through their gags. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. His breath got tangled in his throat, and all he could do was gulp it back down, nod his head, and give a little smile. 

God put their arms around Orion and pulled him into a hug. He felt God’s tightly wound, frame loosen as they let out a sigh that sounded like it had been held in their lungs for eons.

About the Author

Isaac is a human writer from Earth. They enjoy listening to and making music, and write when they have time.