“ I called.”

“Me? I was…”

“No. God.”

“You called God?”

“Yes.”

“How? Uh never mind…What did…God…have to say?”

“How disappointed he was.”

“Why was he disappointed?”

“He’s disappointed in all of us. Disappointed that no one else had thought to pick up the phone and call. And ask.”

“What did you ask?”

“I asked him how he was doing.”

“And..?”

“He said disappointed.”

“Ah. What else did you find to talk about?”

“Well, I told him about how I went for a walk that morning. I thanked him for making me a morning. Have you ever noticed how the most beautiful things are composed of the most ugly materials?”

“You told God this? Or…”

“Well, he said that’s what earth was. Beauty from horrific mistakes. Our mistakes, that is. The world was beautiful when it was dark, he said, when it was just him and his thoughts, which is why he made us. We are all just one of God’s thoughts, and we all link to each other because of it. Our world is just composed of stationary knowledge and moving thoughts and wondering. This is why our lives have no meaning, and we die when the train of thought ends. Our mistakes are just ruptures of thought and emotion in God’s head, and they’re always made right by interacting with a stronger notion.”

“Interesting philosophy.”

“Well, God didn’t say all that.”

“I thought so. What else did God say?”

“He’s not much for talking, only thinking.”

“Ah yes. So, what was the rest of this conversation like?”

“Just a series of fractured explanations and guarded responses. Until I heard the soft
* click * on the other end, that’s when God hung up.”

“He hung up?”

“Well, because I did first.”

“Lost me.”

“I hung up in my head, I counted to three, and then I let go of the connection. Because I didn’t want God to hurt anymore.”

“God was hurting?”

“I told you. No one ever calls. And it hurt him to know only a few would after me.”

“mm..ok. Ok.”

“You know, praying isn’t really talking to God.”

“mm?”

“Yeah, he said that praying only makes him more and more frustrated because he’s everywhere, and people keep closing their eyes.”

“Do you feel as if you’ve wasted your time after you pray?”

“Never have.”

“Ok, um, after God hung up, what did you do?”

“Held the phone just awhile longer.”

“Why?”

“Because I was scared to hang up. Sometimes a broken connection is better than a real one. It gives you something to concentrate and work on. But God never did come back, there was only some strange lady reminding me of just how broken this connection was.”

“Do you want to talk to God again?”

“I don’t know.”

“And what have you done from then until now?”

“Nothing. Left my eyes open because I’m scared to miss something.”

“Have you slept?”

“There’s no time for sleeping. Even one eye being open leaves room for missing something. So I went for another walk, this time in the dark.”

“And?”

“It was dark. I still missed everything. All I could do was listen to my heart beat and thoughts. Just me and my thoughts. Maybe that’s what I’m so afraid to miss. One great thought is worth thousands of others. And I wonder why no one ever calls me on my phone.”

“mm…?”

“Well, you know, I do the samething every night. I sit and wait by the phone. Try to think of who I can call who is still talking to me, which is no one. Which is why I think me and God listen to each other so well. Because no one ever wants to talk to us. I wonder if God wants to die as much as I do.”

“What do you think would happen?”

“His thoughts would all end.”