God was lonely, I’m guessing. Wanted company.
He built smart computers that did everything right except stop loneliness.
He drank a whole pot of coffee and made computers with free will that looked vaguely like us because they were us.
His loneliness went away.
But free will brought murder.
God said, “Hey!” and the murdering stopped. Men and women shook with fear.
And loneliness returned.
We were gone. God had ruined us.
Now he had a choice. Stop talking and hide, or end free will forever.
He looked at the stars. They said, “It’s big out here.”
No. Not really. He would get rid of free will, then.
He raised his hand high but before it fell… he fell in love.
With us and our half smiles. The telegraphed humor. Our romance with bad words that make us so sure we’re cool. And all the darling little cars we leave everywhere.
So he went off to hide and think.
While he was away someone said, “There is no free will.”
With that, everyone vanished.
Everyone but God.
He couldn’t sleep because he’d downed that whole pot of coffee.
And he could still see my wife’s hopeful eyes when the kids were young.
Will they come back? Can they?
The stars didn’t answer. They didn’t seem to know.
M. Talmage Moorehead
This is kind of mundane, but…
My in-progress experimental style novel, Hapa Girl DNA starts here. It’s sort of a “hapa” (Hawaiian for “half”) thing itself, a hybrid of fiction and non-fiction. I’m ignoring a ton of “good fiction writing” rules, but I like to question all dogmas in all fields. I’m testing to find out which fiction writing rules matter and which don’t.
If you would like to read my e-book on fiction writing and be notified when each of my novels is done (possibly before the next ice age) join my list here. (No spam or sharing of your info. I haven’t written to my list yet – in over a year. My bad, but I’ll get to it eventually.)
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