“It’s Saturday night and I’m bored.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s just me, nothing else around except water. Water water everywhere. Gray and silent. I’m bored. Maybe I’ll create some forms.”
“Forms? Why? I like everything formless, just like now. One big nothing. That’s what I call religion.”
“Maybe, but it’s very boring. You know what? Tomorrow I’m going to get to work. Start creating some light.”
“Wassdat?”
“Lack of darkness.”
“You‘ll be sorry. Darkness is so much easier on the eyes.”
“That’ll take the day. After that, put on some Netflix. But on Monday I get back to work.”
“Why work? Just say Bang!”
“Okay. On Monday I’ll say Bang! and a universe will appear.”
“I hate Mondays. After that, go on vacation. You’ve done enough. Just think of all that space!”
“I need the ground under my feet.”
“You don’t have feet.”
“I need something solid and stable. On Tuesday I’ll create Earth.”
“What’s an Earth?”
“An Earth is solid and stable. You know levitation?”
“Is there a spiritual being who doesn’t know levitation?”
“It’s the opposite of that. You come down to earth, you don’t go up in the air. And I think I’ll add a few things, like sequoias, grasses, sage, and mums.”
“We don‘t need more stage sets!”
“The next day I’ll—”
“Say Bang! again?”
“No, I’ll create suns, moons, and stars.”
“But you already created a universe.”
“I made a mistake, I created too much dark matter.”
“You don’t make mistakes, at least not in theory. Of course, this one will be a doozy!”
“With suns and moons we’ll have days, months, and years.”
“Also, to-do lists.”
“Speaking of which, on Thursday—”
“Hey, what about pacing your glorious self? Take a day off, go to a spa.”
“On Thursday I’m creating Fish and Fowl.”
“Not Dungeons and Dragons? Red Dead Redemption? Super Mario?”
“On Friday I‘m making things that will walk the Earth. Cows, saber-tooth tigers, spiders, skunks, snakes.”
“Could we cancel the snakes?”
“If you slither hither and thither, if you shiver and quiver, if you got the muscle to hustle, if you walk, stalk—”
“I got it, I got it! If you can do any of those things, you appear on Friday. Take it from me, you’re creating a lot of unnecessary confusion.”
“And finally, just before sunset on Friday, I’ll create humans.”
“Why, for Your sake?”
“I’m bored dancing solo. I need partners.”
“You’re indefinable. You‘re birthless, deathless, beyond time and space, beyond beyond.”
“Also, bored.”
“You’ll be sorry. Too many forms, too many relationships, too much mishigas. When do we watch TV?”
“Saturday. We rest on Saturday. Sleep late. Have a nice breakfast. You like eggs?”
“It’ll be too loud. Too many sights and smells. And kids! You know how I feel about kids! And malls! Kids in malls! Take it from me, you’ll miss the gray water and the silence. You’ll miss the boredom. And we’re so happy here, just the one of us.”
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The Dogs of the Kiskadee Hills: Hunt for the Lynx begins a trilogy about a society of dogs after humans have destroyed themselves and much of the world. Living with their families and clans in the Kiskadee Hills, they’ve developed over generations a rich tradition and way of life, and have prospered. But now, an unknown killer is butchering the Kisdees of the Hills.