Sunday, March 20, 2011


     “Ah, my little one.” God told the small thing which lay in his embrace.  “I give to you my breath so that you may breathe.  I give to you my earth so that you may take of it and share in its beauty and wealth.”
     It suckled at Gods breast, and this was allowed as he was neither sex, both mother and father to mankind, and knowledge and reason flowed into it.
     “Soon your eyes shall open unto a new world, a vast and glorious world in which you will come to think of yourself the most glorious of all.  You will be right in your assumption, are as all men, at least partially right.  You have the potential.”
     “Potential to rise higher than the birds, though not as gracefully.”
    “Potential to blossom more beautifully than a flower though not as delicately.”
     The Lord sighed, looking at his creation.
     “But no,” He told it, “You shall learn to hurt more than yourself, you shall learn to kill where you do not need, you shall spite yourself and others.  Such is your way.”
     “Now you must go, and I can do nothing more to guide you.  I cannot care, I cannot emote, for you who have made me all powerful have not afforded me that small luxury.”
     He scratched the small black mark on its soul that marked it as man, and then spread his arms.  It was borne down on the slightest whisper of wind, to live its life and make its own mark upon mankind.

© David Ferraris 2011

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