feign interest. “Is this for the main dining area?”
“No,” God said. “The vestibule. When you first walk into the restaurant.”
Craig flipped through the color options. “I think the teal,” he said.
“Really?”
“Call me crazy, but I think it fits the mood. Especially if you’re going with beige for the tablecloths. You know—they’re both nice, muted colors.”
God nodded. “That’s a good point.”
He picked up his phone and dialed an extension.
“Vince? I’m pulling the trigger on the vestibule carpet. That’s right. We’re going teal!”
He stood up.
“Well, I guess that’s everything,” he said proudly.
Craig hesitated. “Actually, I was wondering—is it cool if we maybe talk for a second about that Earth thing?”
God sat back down.
“I forgot about that. What’s up?”
Craig slid the pair of prayers across the desk.
“I’m calling my shot,” he said.
God squinted at the two slips of paper. “The wording’s a little vague. I mean, ‘be together’? That could mean anything.”
“I don’t think it’s vague. It just means these two humans want to become a couple.”
“Well, yeah, but at what moment do two people ‘become a couple’?”
“I guess I don’t know,” Craig conceded. “What do you think?”
God shrugged. “Intercourse?”
Craig coughed. “I don’t think that’s fair,” he said. “I mean, that’s a lot to arrange in a month. How about this: we’ll say the prayer’s been answered if they go out on a date?”
God considered his proposal.
“I think it’s gotta be intercourse,” he said.
Craig sighed.
“How about a kiss,” he suggested.
God stroked his chin. “What kind of kiss? We talking tongue?”
Craig shook his head. “Let’s just say, on the lips. The prayer’s been answered if they kiss on the lips sometime in the next thirty days.”
God thought about it.
“Okay,” he said, thrusting out his hand. “Deal.”
Craig shook God’s hand—and saw that his boss was laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s never going to work.”
Craig shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“How hard could it be?” he said. “They already want to be together. All I have to do is give them an opportunity.”
“Just because you give the humans something doesn’t mean they’ll take advantage of it. They’re like goldfish. You can drop something right in front of their faces and they’ll just ignore it. Do you know how long it was before the humans tried fruit? Like, a thousand years. For a while they just walked up to the trees, poked at them with sticks, and ran away.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re afraid of everything. It’s their biggest defect. Other than the dying thing.”
“Maybe those two are related?”
“Oooh, Mr. Philosophy!”
Craig looked down at his lap, embarrassed.
“Well,” he mumbled. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“No need,” God told him. “I’ll be watching.”
Eliza was sitting at her desk, waiting for Craig to return, when she heard screaming. It was coming from a cubicle down the hall. She ran toward the sound, assuming a colleague was hurt. But she quickly realized the noise was coming from a computer. Brian had left his desk in Physical Safety unattended.
She stepped into Brian’s empty cubicle and peered at his screen. A suburban teenager was writhing next to a trampoline, clutching his ankle in agony.
“Whoops,” Brian said, as he walked back from the bathroom. “Probably shouldn’t have left.”
“Is he badly hurt?” Eliza asked.
Brian glanced at the screen and laughed.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. He closed the window.
“Man,” he said. “I am hung over.”
He took a family-size tub of Alka-Seltzer out of his filing cabinet and shook some tablets onto his desk. The bottle, Eliza noticed, was almost empty.
“You want to know something?” Brian said. “I’m a bad Angel.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“No, it’s true,” Brian said. “I am
“No,” God said. “The vestibule. When you first walk into the restaurant.”
Craig flipped through the color options. “I think the teal,” he said.
“Really?”
“Call me crazy, but I think it fits the mood. Especially if you’re going with beige for the tablecloths. You know—they’re both nice, muted colors.”
God nodded. “That’s a good point.”
He picked up his phone and dialed an extension.
“Vince? I’m pulling the trigger on the vestibule carpet. That’s right. We’re going teal!”
He stood up.
“Well, I guess that’s everything,” he said proudly.
Craig hesitated. “Actually, I was wondering—is it cool if we maybe talk for a second about that Earth thing?”
God sat back down.
“I forgot about that. What’s up?”
Craig slid the pair of prayers across the desk.
“I’m calling my shot,” he said.
God squinted at the two slips of paper. “The wording’s a little vague. I mean, ‘be together’? That could mean anything.”
“I don’t think it’s vague. It just means these two humans want to become a couple.”
“Well, yeah, but at what moment do two people ‘become a couple’?”
“I guess I don’t know,” Craig conceded. “What do you think?”
God shrugged. “Intercourse?”
Craig coughed. “I don’t think that’s fair,” he said. “I mean, that’s a lot to arrange in a month. How about this: we’ll say the prayer’s been answered if they go out on a date?”
God considered his proposal.
“I think it’s gotta be intercourse,” he said.
Craig sighed.
“How about a kiss,” he suggested.
God stroked his chin. “What kind of kiss? We talking tongue?”
Craig shook his head. “Let’s just say, on the lips. The prayer’s been answered if they kiss on the lips sometime in the next thirty days.”
God thought about it.
“Okay,” he said, thrusting out his hand. “Deal.”
Craig shook God’s hand—and saw that his boss was laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s never going to work.”
Craig shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“How hard could it be?” he said. “They already want to be together. All I have to do is give them an opportunity.”
“Just because you give the humans something doesn’t mean they’ll take advantage of it. They’re like goldfish. You can drop something right in front of their faces and they’ll just ignore it. Do you know how long it was before the humans tried fruit? Like, a thousand years. For a while they just walked up to the trees, poked at them with sticks, and ran away.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re afraid of everything. It’s their biggest defect. Other than the dying thing.”
“Maybe those two are related?”
“Oooh, Mr. Philosophy!”
Craig looked down at his lap, embarrassed.
“Well,” he mumbled. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“No need,” God told him. “I’ll be watching.”
Eliza was sitting at her desk, waiting for Craig to return, when she heard screaming. It was coming from a cubicle down the hall. She ran toward the sound, assuming a colleague was hurt. But she quickly realized the noise was coming from a computer. Brian had left his desk in Physical Safety unattended.
She stepped into Brian’s empty cubicle and peered at his screen. A suburban teenager was writhing next to a trampoline, clutching his ankle in agony.
“Whoops,” Brian said, as he walked back from the bathroom. “Probably shouldn’t have left.”
“Is he badly hurt?” Eliza asked.
Brian glanced at the screen and laughed.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. He closed the window.
“Man,” he said. “I am hung over.”
He took a family-size tub of Alka-Seltzer out of his filing cabinet and shook some tablets onto his desk. The bottle, Eliza noticed, was almost empty.
“You want to know something?” Brian said. “I’m a bad Angel.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“No, it’s true,” Brian said. “I am
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