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Category: Speculative

A letter from God

I created the universe 14,000,000,000 years ago. It was a trivial thing. It took me barely a click of my finger. I created a singularity, you see, and then everything flowed from that.

I am a patient being. I have existed forever, but only created the universe when I did on a whim. The readers of this document don’t need to know why. Nor what I was doing before. That’s part of my wonderful mystery. Go about your business, do not worry about my intentions, my actions, nor my experience.

When I made the universe, I knew that eventually some intelligent species would develop. One, I knew, despite quantum physics’ implicit uncertainty, would look a lot like me. I knew this even though everything about the structure of the universe I clicked into existence does not allow reasonable predictions of the future. Of course, us wise ones know that I am writing this only to be read by the intelligent beings that do exist. Perhaps there are billions of universes where that evolution did not occur and that the ones reading this are in one of the ones where they do. Of course that’s the case, how else could it have been?

So, you, dear reader, you look exactly like me. When I said I clicked my finger in the first paragraph, you were right to imagine a brown, pale brown, pink, yellow, or red finger that looks a lot like an ape’s finger, clicking against an opposable thumb.

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The negative spiral

As the rain pattered against his hood, he hunched his shoulders, hoping to stop the icy rain from hitting his face. The coat was old and wasn’t as good at keeping out the rain as it had once been. The tired seams were more relaxed and the fabric itself was thinner.

As he walked through the gloomy weather, along a street from-which the rain had sapped all the joy and life, he came across a woman. She smiled kindly, and invited him into a nearby cafe for a cup of something warm.

The pair sat opposite each other at the café table. The lady looked kindly at this person on whom, it appeared, fate had visited unkindness. The man kept his head low, as if still trying to avoid the rain. He always did this. It was a defense mechanism in a world where some people were not kind. It also had become a habit.

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Surrounding forest

No-one had ever left the town before. All the people knew that the forest was too thick. Once a generation or so, a brave person would strike out into the dense canopy seeking to find another part of the world – literally anything other than the town and the surrounding forest.

Some had returned, turning around when they had under half of their rations left. They returned, but their stories were boring: The forest was the same for as far as they could tell.

Each tree was tall, with beautiful canopies that vied for the sunlight with its neighbor. Children would often climb to the top to see what they could see, but what they found was always that there were more trees as far as the eye could see.

Sarah grew up in the town in the forest.

“Sarah! Are you listening to me?”

Sarah jumped in her seat. She had been flying around the town, preparing her wings for the long journey over the forest.

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