Story Twenty Eight – Revolution

… Ok, what the holy hell? Seriously? METAPHOR?! NO ONE GETS METAPHOR ANYMORE!

Speaking without words had become more than second nature.

What do you mean, experiments?

The creature in the containment tube twitched. God brought it to a large table and laid it down lengthways so the tops of the cylinder were visible. Through the flat discs, I saw it move. It tried to breathe but sputtered on the clear inspissation. The gel, meant to hold it in safety, was choking the thing. God’s thoughts touched some activator and the glass-structure fell away.

The organism wasn’t overtly strange. It was built in practically the same way as my previous people, two legs, two arms, one head. The skin was unique. It was the color of the sands below the plateau cities. Two eyes perched above a vertical and protruding nose with only two nostrils. It was stuck between sleep and the waking world, unaware of us but fully capable of speech. Mumbles in an alien language erupted arbitrarily.

Twenty Seven – Imminution

OHHHH, I get it… sort of… wait, what?

I couldn’t speak, not like I once had. However long it was, however long I had been in the company of the creature which was most definitely not a god but could only be described as our Lord, it had been long enough for my lips to fuse in a strange evolutionary adaption. My jaw cemented to the sockets below my cheek bones. I had chosen to focus almost solely on the symbols introduced to me by the Chancellors. It was my choice, my preference to speak with the markings, transcending sounds, exporting communication through the air and showing my meaning via images pushed to the other’s mind. That conscious path sent me into this change. I worried about hunger and the need for air. I sent the question to the Lord but it was dismissed as ridiculous. I was told there were other ways to get nutrients. I wasn’t exactly excited to discover them.

When I felt this, the stiffening of my mandible, I quickly realized the cause. Before my audience with this Lord came to happen, I would never have conceptualized it. The connection between cause and effect would have been wanting. I only knew the correlation because of what I had been taught when I didn’t know I was learning. Whatever I did, whatever pattern I followed, my body would alter to facilitate it. I began to move in exaggerations of normal actions. I exercised every aspect of myself. Physical and mental prowess grew. I grew. I was never questioned by God on why. He knew.

Story Twenty Six – Convolution

Days did not exist, nights never were, life was a belief of the living and some colors, though seen by our eyes, were only figments of our collective imagination. God had been right in telling me that my adaption to this so-called true reality would be painful. It was a marathon, an unstopping, unrelenting barrage of concepts so foreign to my view that I immediately repelled them. I fought back because they weren’t real, they couldn’t be. I argued against what the Lord was trying to show me. I rejected the absoluteness and finality of his conviction in it. I couldn’t push the words anymore, couldn’t carve the markings back in the mountainous slate of God’s consciousness. I had to speak.

“God, this cannot be real. I see things to the contrary, I know things that tell me that what you are showing me isn’t possible.”

The flashes in my mind stopped. They were replaced with the familiar symbols of his ‘voice’, so much more elegant than I could accomplish.

Why do you call me ‘God’?