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A Conversation With God
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TITLE (EDIT)
A Conversation With God
DESCRIPTION
Basically, its a short story with sort of a twisted view on the whole walking with god on the beach theme that you see around. I dunno, it was sort of one of those late night writes. Yeah, I'm an atheist. Just keep that in mind.
[1,230 words]
AUTHOR
Kevin Myrick

K Myrick

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I'm currently a College Student enrolled at Auburn University in Auburn, AL. I'm studying Political Science, but thinking of changing my major to English, or double majoring. I'm interested in computers, the outdoors and of course, writing. I read a lot instead of watching TV, because in truth there is nothing more of value to watch on TV anymore.
[December 2003]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (22)
A Gunslinger's Death Is Always Best (Short Stories) The Sixth in the Sierra Madre Stories, finally typed up for your enjoyment. [3,668 words] [Crime]
Chapter One: A Stiff Shot Of Southern Comfort (Novels) It's an idea I had for a novel, no title yet. No worries though, I'm sure I'll have something by chapter two. Enjoy! [1,314 words] [Literary Fiction]
Fireworks At Christmas (Short Stories) This is the fifth story in the continuing series called the Sierra Madre Stories. [3,274 words] [Literary Fiction]
Headboards And Tombstones (Short Stories) The fourth story in the Sierra Madre Series/Stories, this one is about the boyfriend mostly. Some backstory, some flashback. Hope everyone enjoys. [2,898 words] [Literary Fiction]
How To Read This Diatribe (Essays) The very beginning letter from myself to you about a new series of essays, stories, and miscellaneous things I'm writing about. [317 words] [Mind]
In The Beginning (Short Stories) The followup to "The Last Two Minutes of an Insane Man's Life", which takes the reader back to the beginning, retracing the steps to how he has a gun to his head. [1,225 words] [Literary Fiction]
Last Two Minutes Of An Insane Man's Life (Short Stories) The story of a man who is insane and has his inner demons leave him after trying to commit suicide. It ends ironically, I guess. Note: Strong Language and some sexual content. Not safe for children's ... [914 words] [Literary Fiction]
No Longer A Smoking America (Essays) I wrote this paper for my college english comp class, and decided it was worthy enough to publish. Maybe. Anyhow, take it with a grain of salt folks, and if you see something you think is wrong, pleas... [1,483 words] [Mind]
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Sail Away (Short Stories) An autobiographical story that ends with a point about the quest for the meaning of life, and what the meaning of life is to me, the author. [1,295 words]
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Something About Good Decisions (Novels) Chapter two of something else I've been working on. Taking the last chapter's comments into view, I've decided to shift away from the whole "writer as a main character" theme to "who are those two guy... [2,322 words]
Southern Roadtrips- Part One (Novels) The Prologue and First Two chapters of a novella I'm writing called "Southern Roadtrips". At least, that's what I'm calling it right now. Characters and Stories are based on fact, but I've taken creat... [3,315 words] [Travel]
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The Death Of Smith And Jones In Sierra Madre (Short Stories) The next story in the "Sierra Madre Stories" series in which describes the death of Smith and Jones, two of the four who are responsible for the death of Mary. It also includes an interesting anecdote... [3,072 words] [Literary Fiction]
The Family Of Four (Non-Fiction) For my friends at college. [1,014 words]
The First Joker In The Deck (Essays) This is an essay about my personal philosophy, or lack thereof. [1,098 words] [Mind]
The Four Of Clubs (Essays) Second part to the Four of Diamonds. It has been called "a bible." [2,726 words] [Mind]
The Four Of Diamonds (Essays) A bit of a rant about my generation's debt, prescription drugs, healthcare, and George W. Bush. Just read, I swear it's interesting. [1,963 words] [Mind]
The Man From Sierra Madre (Short Stories) The second in the "Sierra Madre Series" with more death and an interesting plot twist at the end. Or, at least I think it's interesting. [3,659 words] [Literary Fiction]
The Massacre Of Sierra Madre (Short Stories) The beginning of a series I'm calling "The Sierra Madre Stories", this is the first one in a long list of stories. It involves everyone's favorite subjects: Drugs, death and money. [3,637 words] [Literary Fiction]
Thinking About My Father (Short Stories) A Sort of Essay/Short Story about the relationship with my father. [979 words] [Literary Fiction]
A Conversation With God
Kevin Myrick

     A young man was walking down the beach one
afternoon, feeling the breeze fill his hair and
enjoying the sunshine of a cool spring afternoon.
 His bare feet were cushioned by the soft white
sand, just damp enough to have sand work itself in
 between his toes. This caused the young man great
 annoyance causing him to stop every once in a
while to brush the small crevices in between his
toes out. Again, he stopped. But this time, he
noticed fresh tracks in the sand behind him, and
looked around to see who was there. But no one
was around.
“This is very strange. There are decent sized
footprints in the sand, but no owner to claim
them. Odd indeed.”
Suddenly, without a hint of observable notice,
a voice spoke.
“It is I. The one and only.”
The young man stood there a moment, his right
foot in his hand flabbergasted. Where had the
voice come from? A voice that was so loud that
it could be projected for hundreds of miles, but
was so soft that he was the only listener for any
calculated distance around him. He scraped the
sand out of the web between his toes again and
placed his foot back on the ground. He began
walking again, in the opposite direction of the
voice.
“Excuse me? Did you here what I said? I am the
one and only. Your Lord.”
The young man did an about face, a stern
look suddenly caste upon his face much like
plaster drying quickly in the hot summer sun on
the beach surface.
“You make the pretense to know my beliefs then
voice.”
“Well, certainly, I must be able to, I am the
Lord after all.”
“Then you know I don’t believe in you. That my
life is dedicated to all that is logical and true,
not some lies written in a book by man that was
supposedly dictated from an unseen beneficiary.
I do not stand for such nonsense.”
“But I am your lord…”
“Really. I’m a skeptic observer of the
obvious. Prove it to me, oh wise and mighty
invisible man.”
Suddenly, the pitch lowered and the volume of the
voice increased, as the voice bellowed
“I AM NO MERE MORTAL!”
“Bullshit.”
“Wait a second, you really don’t believe I exist,
do you?”
“Well see, the only thing I can figure is this.
One, there is no discernable evidence that you
exist. Therefore, you must not. Two, the Bible as
a written text does not prove it, because all the
chapters are named after men, or something men
did. In fact, it is well documented that the book
was written by men, translated by men, and
distributed by the weird men in the airport. So,
as proof, that’s a bit lacking for my tastes.
Especially having firsthand knowledge of the
faults of man. You with me so far here, Mister?”
“Well, yes. Please continue, you interest me.”
The young man continued, whether he was deterred
or not.
“So therefore, the only conclusion I can come up
with is this: You don’t exist. Well, you exist as
a grand ideal in the hearts and minds of your
followers. I’m just not one of them. So, in the
grand scheme of the whole story of Jesus Christ
dying for everyone’s sins? Yeah, in my opinion,
he sort of just got the short end of the political
 stick. I mean, after all, Rome was controlling
Jerusalem at the time. And wouldn’t a great way
to get everyone to revolt was to say you were the
son of God?”
“Well, yes, I guess that could be construed as
being true…”
“Exactly. So, the only thing I can guess is that
I’m hallucinating and that this is some grand
acid flashback. Which I have to say is bad because
 that must have been some nasty acid I dropped to
have this sort of flashback. Of course, no offense
 to you. It’s not that I don’t enjoy talking to
you. You’re just not high up on my list of people
to talk to.”
“I understand,” the voice said somewhat sulkily.
“Don’t take it so personally. I think you’re
probably a pretty good guy once people get to
know you and all…”
“Oh well, people don’t tend to like the hellfire
and brimstone side of my existence I project. If
it weren’t for that damn Satan, I swear I’d be
more popular with the ladies.”
“Hey, you were the only who projected the idea
that virginity was a good thing, not me.”
“Well, yeah, that’s true. That whole immaculate
conception business probably wasn’t a good idea.”
“I don’t think you had a choice in my opinion. It
was that or Mary dies of an orgasm.”
The voice chuckled. A large indention in the sand
from a wave of energy was formed from the
chuckling, something that looked deep and hollow
in the imprint of the sand. Then it gained control
of itself and began to speak again.
“You’re assuming, mere mortal, that she didn’t
have one.”
“Ahhh, you didn’t, did you?”
“Oh, well, even deities have to get a little action
every millennia or so.”
“Damn, way to go Lord.”
“Well I do what I can when I can, with what
I have.”

The two talked for hours, the young man eventually
sitting down and watching the sun set and the tide
begin to wash ashore. It got within 10 feet or so
where he was sitting talking to God, as if they
were old friends meeting again in the parking lot
of a grocery store, compacting down ten years of
their lives into a few meaningless sentences,
promising to call one another in a day or two to
get together again. The young man recognized that
it was time to exit the conversation.
“Look God, it’s been nice and all, but this tide
is going to wash up and drown my ass if I don’t
skidaddle.”
“Yes indeed it will, so I understand. Pray if you
want to find me. It’s sort of like making a phone
call. Only not as cool.”
“Yeah, well, if I need you, I know where to find
you.”
“Hey, we should get together soon and order a
pizza and watch football.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Hey, since you’re a
deity and all, is it possible for me to come to
you and sort of hang out and just leave again?”
“Yeah, it is. Just a bit more difficult than most
would think.”
“All right. I’ll give you a holler later.”
“See you, mere mortal.”
“See ya around, Heyzus.”
“Fuck off.”
“Geez, and I thought you liked everybody…”

And with that, the great voice left the young man, to find other bodies to control and
manipulate while his power over his believers was
still around.

The young man continued his journey back towards
the solid earth, dusting the space between his
toes along the way. He wondered for a moment
before walking back into his house if what just
happened was real or not. He decided that, if it
was real, he was surely going to hell. But if it
was fake, then certainly he would die contented
knowing that he had told God to go fuck off.
Either way, he decided, he wouldn’t worry about
it. He dusted the sand off of his sweater, threw
his shoes down on the deck, and wiped his feet on
the doormat before entering the house. He laid
down on the couch, a coca-cola in his hand,
television remote in the other, and fell into a
deep and peaceful sleep.

 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2004 Kevin Myrick
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
February 2004
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2044
 

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