Wordsmiths July Story

Written for Wordsmithunlimited. There's still time to write YOUR story, should you be so inclined.

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"Playing God"

Some may think me insane for caring so deeply about these small spheres, and I’ve been told by my family and friends that I should find a new hobby, but how could anyone, once fully aware of their powers, turn away from the great calling to create? My art is all-consuming, my passion a deeply entrenched fire. I have formed these worlds from plain clay, worked life into them with every motion of my hands, impregnated them with the creatures of my imagination, then set them to spin in their cradles, side by side with their brothers and sisters. They are my family. My children.

They’re all so beautiful. They’re all so precious, almost unique. They’re been the work of a lifetime, a conscious effort. My dedication to them has been entire, and I have lost much because of them. There was no choice to make, for when one is a god one must first and foremost care for the tangible proof of one’s omnipotence.

A life’s work. A long life of dedication to the creation and care of these shining gems of my imagination. It has been satisfying. However, I sense that something isn’t right somewhere. There is imbalance. There is a wobble of sorts; the regular shimmer of my pretty box of worlds is flaring in an unpleasant heartskip of irregularity.

Which one is it that is causing the decay and confusion? Which of the innumerable number laid out before me is behaving in a manner unfit for a work of my hands? Which one? If I can find it, then there is a chance I can either fix it or create another to take its place, a glistening new testament to my loving care.

I suspect that it’s one of the water worlds. They tend to be the most unbalanced of all of the types I’ve made, and require the most looking after. I have thought once or twice about getting rid of all of them, but they’re such a gorgeous blue, and the notes they hum as they spin add something that the others cannot. The last time one set to wobbling I came upon an ingenious solution that, while harsh, restored order in the array within a week - I flooded it. With the surface uniformly covered, the spin inconsistency was eliminated. A genius move, I think. I know I did the right thing, because now the beat of its heart is regular and pleasing, its glow is pure, it is stable. A happy balanced universe is a good thing.

This time I suspect that it’s Earth that’s slipping out of place. I think a flood would fix the problem, but this time I’ll let a few special creatures survive, just to see what happens. Unicorns and jackalopes and griffins for sure. Maybe even People; they have such potential for greatness. I am god, I am in control, let it be so.