"Risen"

 

The Lord Jesus Christ stood next to me in the kitchen while I waited for the oven timer to ring.

"You know what's really a miracle," He said, "is how someone figured out to add raisins and cinnamon to the dough. Human creativity is never going to stop amazing me."

"I'll just be amazed if this comes out right," I told Him. "I've never tried this recipe before, and baking isn't exactly my strength."

The timer went off.

"Done," I said. "I think."

"'A time to every purpose under heaven,'" He said. We both crouched and peeked through the window.

The dough had risen and was now transformed from a flat, pale mass into a loaf of bread, its golden crust set perfectly above the pan. I slipped a pot holder onto one hand and grabbed the door handle with the other. Before I opened the oven, though, I turned to the Lord.

"I'm not a Christian," I told Him, "though I imagine You know that already. I mean, I respect that it works for some people, makes sense to them and helps them behave better, but for me...." I shook my head.

"I know," He said. "And, you know, I'm sad about it, of course, but I understand. It's cool." And I understood that it was: in His hand he produced a dish of real butter, sweet cream, no preservatives, for us to use--the good stuff. Truly, I thought, this love knows no bounds.

Together we took the pan from the oven and set it on the counter to cool. "So, this is my mom's special cinnamon raisin bread," I said. "Um, take and eat?"

He laughed. "Please, trust me when I say this," He told me, "it smells divine. Now, do you happen to have a couple of fish around here that I could, you know, multiply and serve as well?"

I stared at him.

"Ah, I'm just playing," Jesus said. "That would be nasty. Let's give this bread a try, shall we?"

For a second, I was almost ready to put my faith in miracles. The bread was perfectly cooked on the inside as well.

"Automated Teller Machine"

"Your bra strap is showing."

The woman glanced over her shoulder, around the empty lobby, where the voice she had heard echoed like that of someone speaking into a tin can telephone.

"Sorry to have to bring that to your attention, but somebody had to tell you. I can accept your debit card if you're ready."

The woman narrowed her eyes and slid her card into the ATM, pulling her fingers all the way back to her chest once it was accepted. She pressed a few buttons on the keypad while continuing to watch the screen.

"Are you sure that you want to withdraw that amount right now?" came the voice. "You can start a savings account with just a fraction of that money, and our interest rates are highly competitive. The first month's interest alone would be enough to buy you some fancier undergarments."

The woman pressed a few more buttons, snatched her card, and backed out the lobby door.

"Modern Conveniences"

 

"Do you remember, I think it was one of those old 'Tom and Jerry' cartoons, where they showed the 'House of the Future?'" he asked as they strolled through the aisles of appliances. "You remember how the washing machine had a t.v. screen on the door?"

"Yeah," she said. "It's kinda funny to think about the things people thought we'd have," she added, closing the web browser on her phone and opening the camera app to take a picture of a dryer she liked.

"The Pen and the Sword"

 

Before the exam, two students ran out to the student commons to get writing utensils.

The first put her quarters into the machine and received a thin, black ballpoint pen, as plain as could be.

The second inserted her quarters and was given a sword, short but well balanced, with a sturdy silver hilt and a blade that gleamed like a pearl.

The two looked at each other.

"You know, you're still probably going to do better on the test," said the second student to the first.

"I guess," the first said with a frown, "but then there's that whole difference between what you do in school on your tests versus what you do in the real world, and in that case...." 

She fumbled through her coat pocket in search of two more quarters.

"Board Games"

 

He lifted the lid of the old cardboard box, with its splitting corners and the artwork decorating it faded to a thin yellow. Inside, there were the game board and the game pieces, but there were also pieces of his childhood that had been stored away, for some reason, here: class pictures from grade school and candy wrappers. Handwritten notes from a friend.

"How did you play this game, Dad?" his daughter asked. She cast a frown at one of his green plastic soldiers as she took it from the box.

"You know," he said slowly, "I'm not really sure. I'll have to see what I can remember." In the corner of the tray, next to where the dice rested, he saw two of his baby teeth.

"The Bus Stop at the End of the Line"

Hard to see, but there really is a bus stop next to the traffic signal, just at the edge of this forest preserve path.

You can get drunk before you write your farewell note, if you think that'll make it easier. You can put pills and razor blades in your bag, along with whatever else you choose. You can drop your keys through a gap in the sewer grate once you lock the front door and then say, "No turning back now."

You can do all of these things, and the bus driver will still let you board the bus, so long as you keep quiet and pay with exact change. 

The bus driver will let you ride the entire route, all the way to the stop at the end of the line. The stop won't look anything like the gritty terminal you expected, though. Instead, when the door opens, in front of you will be a simple path leading who knows where, it's tough to see in the dark, but leading somewhere. You'll look at the bus driver, confused and uncertain. The bus driver will smile sadly and say, "This is the end." 

What he means is, "It doesn't have to be if you don't want it to."

"General Purpose"

 

I asked the clerk at the office supply store if she had anything stronger than the general purpose sealing tape that I could use. I held out my hands and showed her my heart, its broken pieces lying wet in my palms like shards of glass I'd collected from a polluted sea.

The clerk told me no, that was all they carried. She also informed me that my heart would probably break more if I tried to do anything else with it. She asked if I wanted some bubble wrap.

I told her that it didn't matter, it wasn't much use to anyone in that condition anyway, and besides, I only wanted the stronger tape to make sure that the box would stay shut.

I didn't even label the box before I put it away.