Playing God


(300 words)
“Have you thought how many grains of sand are on this beach?” said Julie, lowering her bright blue rubber bikini top to rub sun cream into puffy white flesh. She let a handful of sand trickle through her fingers. “100, 200, 300…”
I lay back, listening to the sound of breaking waves, feeling the fire of the sun on my eyelids and digging my fingers into the sand. It was the first hot weekend of the year and we’d headed to nearby Skendlethorp Cove.
“They say there’s a star for every grain,” I replied.
“Do you think there’s a God out there, in charge of them all?”
“Who knows? Maybe…” I felt too tired to calculate grains of sand, or even think. Work had been stressful of late. I craved sleep.
Julie’s voice droned on. “I wonder how many beaches there are in the world …”
“What if I told you that all the grains of sand on every beach of your planet were literally a drop in the oceans of your world, compared to the number of stars?“ A voice spoke softly in my ear.
Catatonic, I listened.
It continued, “Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be God, sitting out here, beyond time and space? I’ve been here forever and always will be. I have consciousness that fills all space and time. I think, and I create a world!”
Something hot and heavy landed on my stomach. I jolted awake to find Julie laughing. “Fish and Chips. Buy one get one free at Cafe Napoleon today!”
“I just had a weird dream.”
“I know. It was so funny listening to you rambling on about creating the world!”
She bent over and kissed me, her long blonde hair tickling my face and shoulders.
I hugged her. “You’re my world.”

Featured in the book, To Cut a Short Story Short: 111 Little Stories

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