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Elizabeth A Mills

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Member Since: Mar, 2011

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"Perceptions" is a Limited Edition book of prosetry and photos where prose and verse are interrelated to explore philosophical ideas...  
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Sexual Energy Transmutation - the secret path to Health, Wea
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   Recent stories by Elizabeth A Mills
· Daisy And The Dragon
· A Brick, A Red Shoe, And A Harmonica
· After The Blast
· Annabel's Story
· Today I Am Eleven Years Of Age
· The Voices
           >> View all 7


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A Letter From Your Deity
By Elizabeth A Mills
Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Rated "G" by the Author.

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All you need to know about your life and your god.

 A Message From Your Deity © December 2010 Elizabeth Mills

You people are always complaining about your lives. You just have no idea how complicated the whole process is.

I mean, I didn't even want the job. When God told me he wanted me to make the humans I begged him to give it to someone else. Gabriel, for instance, his work on the Creatures-That-Walk-Upon-The-Earth was brilliant. Or even Satan, old Snake Face. I wanted to make the land masses and the mountains and stuff; I'm good at moving continents around and making those lovely little inland seas. But no, Dad was still seething over that little accident with the black hole, so He wasn't going to let me loose with the Atomic Defibrillator again.

It wouldn't have been so bad, but He changed the spec after I started. There I was, just trying out the prototype (which I thought was quite good, by the way, considering that all I had to go on was “in our image”; I mean, how do you make something solid that looks like another thing that is, when you come down to it, an abstract concept?) just about to put it through its paces, when He says “Oh, by the way, I want two varieties.” Oy! I would have to go right back to the beginning and come up with a design for the second one.

And they have to be compatible,” He added. “ . . . and self-replicating.”

I just stood there, speechless (well, not 'stood', exactly, that's impossible in a spiritual kingdom, of course, I'm just trying to use words your little brains can understand) then I made a spectacular representation of throwing my symbolic tools down in a parody of frustration, and metaphorically stamped off in an allegorical huff.

But He talked me round, and eventually I worked out a way of making them procreate that I thought was quite hilarious. You see, between his legs, the man (who's name was Adam, by the way, which means 'first man' in their language; kind of clever, that, don't you think?) the man had a . . . oh, maybe I shouldn't go into that right now. Anyway, I put the two humans down in the little garden we had made for them and, frankly, forgot about them while I went back to working on my design for a world composed entirely of frozen chlorine.

The next thing I know, God is going mad, throwing up His hands in exaggerated frustration and threatening to destroy everyone's work (which became a regular thing after this, by the way; I think the pressure of it all was becoming too much for Him). It seems that Snake Face had persuaded my humans to disobey something the Old Man had told them to do.

Well, I knew Satan was just trying to make things look bad for me, so when we had our Sixth Day Evaluation Meeting, I suggested that we give Adam and Eve another chance, but take away their immortality, chuck them out into the wilderness and see if they survive. Actually, I knew they would, because I had given them some mean characteristics, like the ability to kill anything that upset them. The only thing that worried me was whether or not they would be willing to participate in the disgusting reproductive process I had cobbled together for them, but I needn't have worried, they couldn't seem to stop doing that.

So, here we are, a million years later, and do you appreciate all I have done for you? Do you 'eck as like. I even came down and shoe-horned myself into one of your bodies, just to tell you some crucial stuff, but you just ignore what I said, then you moan cos your lives are a mess. Well watch my lips 'It's your own stupid fault. What more do you expect your deity to do for you?'

Thank myself you won't be my problem much longer. Next Christmas you will all be hauled up in front of the Lifetime Assessment Committee to explain what you did with your lives. Most of you will be sent off to Alpha Centauri, to start again and see if you make a better job of it next time. Let's see how you cope with the colony of giant reptiles that's already established there.

Meanwhile, the Earth is going to be cleaned up ready for the next species I've designed. I learnt a lot from my mistakes with the humans, and these new ones will be much better. For a start, I want them to be intelligent, caring and peaceful, so I am definitely NOT making any males in the next species!


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Reviewed by Jerry Bolton 3/15/2011
Okay. Sexist is as sexist does. It was the bitch that bit the fucking apple. Jeez!




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