One hungover morning
The doorbell rang
I answered it. There were two ladies
Dressed in black. One of them said
‘We’d like to talk to you about God.’
‘Yes,’ I said,
‘Where is he?
I’ve been up all night looking for him!’
‘Well the thing is,’ the other lady said
Not at all perturbed by my wild behaviour
‘He said to tell you that he’s been unavoidably detained
And that he may not be able to make it back
For at least another two thousand years.’
‘Two thousand years?’ I cried
‘But I haven’t got anywhere near that long
As well he knows, the cheating…’
‘Well, he says you’ll just have to manage,’
The lady on the right interrupted
‘He said that he left you a note with all the instructions.’
‘Instructions?’ I wailed
‘What instructions? I haven’t seen any instructions!
Nobody told me about any instructions!’
‘Also,’ the other began
‘He says that he gave you intelligence, free will,
Compassion and empathy,
And what do you think those are for?’
‘Well, yes,’ I admitted
‘We’ve got those. But…’
‘Well, you can figure it out for yourself, then,’
She answered, a trifle curtly
As though she had got a direct line
‘He says there’s plenty of food
And things to get on with
And he’s sure you can make your own entertainment
Until he gets back.’
‘Just try to play nicely,’ the other warned
‘And don’t hurt each other
Or go breaking anything
Or else there’ll be Hell to pay.’
‘Thanks,’ I said,
And closed the door.
I went and sat down.
I had some serious thinking to do.
