The Hauntings of Playing God (The Great De-Evolution) by Chris Dietzel
Authors: Chris Dietzel
Tags: Literary, Science-Fiction, Literature & Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Literary Fiction, post apocalyptic, Dystopian, Metaphysical & Visionary
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storms to leave her alone. She is thankful, even if she is surrounded by people who can’t communicate with her, that she has time to think about not only her life, but all life.
It’s impossible not to think about your place within the entirety of mankind when you are surrounded by sixty-four mouths that rely wholly and singly on you. She thinks of lions caring for their cubs. She thinks of early cavemen confronting the unknowns of the world as they tried to keep their children alive. And she even thinks of the Earth as a tiny speck in the galaxy, about how, in the end, the sun is not so different from a lioness or a scared man in a cave. Every part of the universe, she thinks, is dependent on something else. It is a beautiful, yet delicate framework. Just look at how quickly dinosaurs vanished from the earth. A single meteor! And look at how it only takes one lifetime for all of mankind to disappear from the planet. Indeed, life is delicate.
When she thinks of her own place in the universe as one microscopic grain of life on one minuscule planet in one tiny solar system, she wonders if there is anything at all to learn from mankind’s existence or if the entire thing was nothing more than a cosmic coincidence that has run its course. If she knew for sure that there was a god watching out for her, she would know there were lessons she was supposed to gain from what has taken place during the span of her life. But knowing the great expanse that is out there—billions of stars, trillions of planets—she knows there is nothing truly significant about her place in the cosmos, even if there is a higher power.
Maybe life is measured by the first time you question your place in the world and by the final answer you come up with.
Amongst the rows of Blocks that she and Elaine assigned life stories to, there is a minister, a Zen master, a philosopher, and a therapist. Between the four of them, they should be able to provide some clarity. Instead, each one contradicts the others, leaving her more confused than before.
The minister looks up at the stars and tells her, “Only God could create something so majestic and immense. Who are we to question his work?”
The Zen master looks into the palm of his hand. “It is not only the universe that is infinite, it is each of us. We all have different realities regarding the same events. Your consciousness is timeless and spaceless, too!”
The philosopher looks at one tiny piece of dirt on the floor and says, “That single little crumb is your life. Look at how tiny it is compared to the gymnasium. And think of everything that exists outside these doors.”
The therapist frowns and says, “The room is only as big or small as it makes you feel. Oftentimes, a feeling of being overwhelmed during a crisis is due to abandonment issues.”
“All four of you, please shut up.”
“We’re only trying to help,” they say in unison.
“Screw off,” she says, giving them the finger and walking to a different area of the group home.
This is exactly why she doesn’t bother asking them the questions that are always bouncing around in her head; they don’t know any more than she does.
10
Denial does not work. Even as she tries to convince herself that he might have stopped checking his e-mail regularly, considering how long it took for her to reply, each passing day makes it a little tougher to hold out hope that Daniel will ever write her again. Time is denial’s mortal enemy and is always victorious against it. After a week, she no longer checks her e-mail every night. Another week after that, she forces herself to check but without any expectation of finding a new note. This silence is different from the one she put him through. Hers was vexing, inconsiderate. His, she fears, is permanent.
She didn’t reply to his e-mail because she didn’t know what to say. How do you tell someone who is all alone that everything will be okay,
It’s impossible not to think about your place within the entirety of mankind when you are surrounded by sixty-four mouths that rely wholly and singly on you. She thinks of lions caring for their cubs. She thinks of early cavemen confronting the unknowns of the world as they tried to keep their children alive. And she even thinks of the Earth as a tiny speck in the galaxy, about how, in the end, the sun is not so different from a lioness or a scared man in a cave. Every part of the universe, she thinks, is dependent on something else. It is a beautiful, yet delicate framework. Just look at how quickly dinosaurs vanished from the earth. A single meteor! And look at how it only takes one lifetime for all of mankind to disappear from the planet. Indeed, life is delicate.
When she thinks of her own place in the universe as one microscopic grain of life on one minuscule planet in one tiny solar system, she wonders if there is anything at all to learn from mankind’s existence or if the entire thing was nothing more than a cosmic coincidence that has run its course. If she knew for sure that there was a god watching out for her, she would know there were lessons she was supposed to gain from what has taken place during the span of her life. But knowing the great expanse that is out there—billions of stars, trillions of planets—she knows there is nothing truly significant about her place in the cosmos, even if there is a higher power.
Maybe life is measured by the first time you question your place in the world and by the final answer you come up with.
Amongst the rows of Blocks that she and Elaine assigned life stories to, there is a minister, a Zen master, a philosopher, and a therapist. Between the four of them, they should be able to provide some clarity. Instead, each one contradicts the others, leaving her more confused than before.
The minister looks up at the stars and tells her, “Only God could create something so majestic and immense. Who are we to question his work?”
The Zen master looks into the palm of his hand. “It is not only the universe that is infinite, it is each of us. We all have different realities regarding the same events. Your consciousness is timeless and spaceless, too!”
The philosopher looks at one tiny piece of dirt on the floor and says, “That single little crumb is your life. Look at how tiny it is compared to the gymnasium. And think of everything that exists outside these doors.”
The therapist frowns and says, “The room is only as big or small as it makes you feel. Oftentimes, a feeling of being overwhelmed during a crisis is due to abandonment issues.”
“All four of you, please shut up.”
“We’re only trying to help,” they say in unison.
“Screw off,” she says, giving them the finger and walking to a different area of the group home.
This is exactly why she doesn’t bother asking them the questions that are always bouncing around in her head; they don’t know any more than she does.
10
Denial does not work. Even as she tries to convince herself that he might have stopped checking his e-mail regularly, considering how long it took for her to reply, each passing day makes it a little tougher to hold out hope that Daniel will ever write her again. Time is denial’s mortal enemy and is always victorious against it. After a week, she no longer checks her e-mail every night. Another week after that, she forces herself to check but without any expectation of finding a new note. This silence is different from the one she put him through. Hers was vexing, inconsiderate. His, she fears, is permanent.
She didn’t reply to his e-mail because she didn’t know what to say. How do you tell someone who is all alone that everything will be okay,
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