The Discovery of god -- By: R. Patrick McLaughlin
ATJ vol 39 p. 1
The Discovery of god
I should begin by introducing myself to you. My name is R. Patrick McLaughlin, and I am the author of this story. I feel it is necessary to establish my identity due to the nature of the narrative I hope to share. Everything considered, I recognize that this is an odd introduction, but in order for you to fully appreciate the world I have created (yes, I realize I am using past tense even though from your point of view I have not yet created this world), I believe it is necessary.
In this story you will recognize my words, which are the source of my creative power in my world, in three forms. The first is in this plain format lacking quotation marks. This is my narration of occurring events and also my commentary. The second form will be italicized, also lacking quotation marks. This will be my dialogue with characters in the story. The third form does not need to be explained, as I am sure that you will recognize it when it happens. Now … let there be creation.
It was quiet, a stilled silence, and dark. How can I describe what it looked like? It was the absence of anything. I will call it “nothing.” That is how things were. But I replaced the nothing. At first there was only white, like a blank canvas. That is where you joined me. And now, with your permission, we will take a journey together, a journey that will begin and end with the discovery of god.
His name will be Dorim. That is what I will call him. What will he be like? I hope he will appreciate all that I have done for him, and all that I will do for him. I hope he becomes everything I want him to become. I hope he turns out the way I want. But how could he not? I love him dearly. Before creating him I already know that I will do anything for him.
Dorim, Dorim, wake up.
Dorim lay sleeping on the floor of the earth, amidst the leaves and stones. Turning slightly, he seems to be aware that I am calling him. Still, he does not answer.
Dorim, it is time to wake up.
“Who is calling me?” he asks as he slowly sits up.
It is a shame really, because I enjoy watching him sleep. He is so innocent.
ATJ vol 39 p. 2
“Who is calling me?” he asks again. I should respond.
It is I.
“Who are you?” he asks.
I am the author.
I appreciate his curiosity. I hope he never loses it or misuses its potential.
Yes, the author. Everything you see, feel, and experience is ...
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