Dear Earth,
When I awoke this morning I had no aspirations at all. To my knowledge I was going to go to work, come home, eat dinner, and go back to work. A plan not so well thought out but it had gotten to a point where I didn’t have to think. It just happened. You could say, “unfortunately for him this was not the case,” but I don’t see any of it as misfortune. Just a change in plans.
This morning, there was a letter.
In the kitchen of my home there sits a table, square, faux oak, humdrum. On this table this particular morning there lay a letter. A letter addressed to one “Edgar.” The sender was “God.” I couldn’t let something so odd go unnoticed. When I pried open the seal a rectangular piece of plastic stumbled on the table. I peered inside the new empty envelope hoping to find some scrap of paper, some form of communication, but there was nothing.
I decided to see how powerful God was, so I went to the nearby mall. Upon entering the building, I was overwhelmed by blinding flashes of “Buy Me Now.” So I did. I began running from store to store and purchasing anything that caught my eye. It became so frantic that I began to lose energy.
Collapse.
As I lie on the floor gazing up at the skylights on the roof of this mall, I thought to myself, “Wow. God is powerful.” Then I realized what had just happened. Since when does something so despicable and worldly as money represent any sort of power, especially in the hands of God? I had committed the sin. I began to weep and stood to my feet. I walked to the rail and peered down into the courtyard.
I walked into a linen shop and made my last purchase.
I fucking hate the postal service.
Frank