La Souffrance de Dieu

You thrust your blade into the sky, piercing the fabric of reality and opening a seam to the edge of the universe. From where you stand on planet earth—one of the lucky few planets given life, a beam emerges from your blade and enters the space around us. It travels past the reach of the moon, through the solar system, out of the milky way and tears through intergalactic space. It may pierce other galaxies on it's way, but it's unstoppable. Soon it reaches the edge of the universe and connects with the cosmic ether, rupturing it and opening like a fruit cut from the inside out. It folds out around you, exposing the stunning, navy blue void above you. There is nothing but the face of god and yourself. They look startled, embarrassed—as if seen for the first time. You stare into their eyes and know that you've done all you can. You've made your move, and now you wait.

The universe settles into it's new position, the curtain coming to rest and draping the landscape in sand. The dunes contrast starkly with the deep navy horizon and fills you with wonder, but you feel the presence of time upon you. The past stares from a distance with dead eyes set deeply into a warm, pink face—unmoving, unblinking. It’s seemingly unaware of the crowd of futures that surround it’s ankles, crawling towards you with half-formed bodies and handfuls of wet, sticky sand. The stunted futures hunger for the fuel of your present body; their blue skin will remain cold as ice until flooded with your hopes and dreams. Before you can act, before you can even think, the hand of god is upon you, ushering you towards the crowd. Your feet are heavy, but you run forward to balance the weight sliding off your shoulders. You grow ever closer to the futures, and they creep, ever steadily, towards you.

They will eat you alive. Their bodies will never be whole without you. You blink, and time has you, eating itself alive to feast on your heart. The weight from your shoulders has spread to your arms and legs, pinning them to the ground. The malformed bodies above you reign pathetic blows down on each other, heavy slaps of meat on bone filling the air. Only one future can live; only one can become whole, and your blood is in the water.

An exhausted victor emerges from the pile of bodies and plunges their jaws into your chest. You lock eyes with the past, but it’s gaze remains dispassionate. The past will not save you. Your heart leaps from within like it can't wait to get away and is swallowed whole by the only possible future. The weight disappears from your limbs, but it doesn't matter. As the life leaves your eyes, you watch as it's legs grow strong, it's hands become steady and the colour comes back to it's skin. The future looks just like you but feels completely different. You close your eyes to wait for the end but are quickly awakened by the hand of god pushing your new, freshly grown body towards a structure.

You look behind you and see the past feasting on the husk of your old body, eyes on locked on you for evermore. Turning back, you're at the foot of the structure. It's rigid, cubic, imperial and bleak. It's sharp corners raise into the void—almost to god themselves, and anchor into the sand beneath. Two futures approach, moving faster than the ones in the hoard. As they come closer you can see their cold, blue skin is thin and wrinkled. The weight on your shoulders returns. The futures stand before you with out stretched palms. Something overtakes you, separate from the hand of god, and you embrace the future on the left.

They lead you into the great cube and you come to the edge of a bed—the sole object in this massive structure. The future takes you by both hands, and you look back into your own eyes for the first time. Your hands become cold in your own grip and you let go, stepping away from yourself. On a breath, you're alone in the structure and you lay down on the bed. There is no ceiling, only the deep navy blue of the sky and the face of god, studying you.

You close your eyes and wait for sleep to take you, but are soon stirred by a sensation until now unknowable to you. You open your eyes and see your body in the bed, surrounded by a universe dismantled. You feel an immense shame as you gaze upon the wreckage—you feel the essence of being flow through you. What was thought to make you human is, in fact, celestial. Every life in the universe calls out to you for meaning—the noise is deafening. You're disoriented and confused; you don't like this.

Grabbing the edges of the universe in your mighty hands, you lift the edges to their former position and begin to thread them back together. As the seam becomes steady, the noise quiets and you can think again. You reach your hand into the universe, reaching to a place you once called home: planet earth. In a field of wheat, you leave an egg. With the last thread in place, you pull tight and seal the universe again. It is silent, and you are alone. You close your eyes, but it doesn't matter. It's dark either way.

You move, fumbling in the void, wondering to yourself what you've done, what you truly accomplished—until your hand meets a cool, hard surface. You press your ear against it and hear something through the wall. Clenching your fists, you begin to attack. You pound harder and harder on the wall, the room seemingly closing in behind you, until finally, you break through. Light floods in through the fist-sized hole and you thrust both hands through, tearing at the thin barrier until you're surrounded by pieces of eggshell and wheat. In your hand, you find a sword. You hold it out in front of you and in it's polished steel you see your dispassionate eyes, unmoving and unblinking. The familiar weight returns to your shoulders.

You thrust your blade into the sky, piercing the fabric of reality and opening a seam to the edge of the universe. From where you stand on planet earth—one of the lucky few planets given life, a beam emerges from your blade and enters the space around us. It travels past the reach of the moon, through the solar system, out of the milky way and tears through intergalactic space. It may pierce other galaxies on it's way, but it's unstoppable. Soon it reaches the edge of the universe and connects with the cosmic ether, rupturing it and opening like a fruit cut from the inside out. It folds out around you, exposing the stunning, navy blue void above you. There is nothing but the face of god and yourself. They look startled, embarrassed—as if seen for the first time. You stare into their eyes and know that you've done all you can. You've made your move, and now you wait.