Jesus was irritable. He couldn’t relax. The universe’s infinite possibilities clamoured for his attention like baby birds wanting food. Recently, his mind had been drifting back to the cross. Whenever it did, he stayed late at the office, crunching out new species and destroying old ones with an intensity that frightened him.
His phone pinged, on the bedside table. Peter had tweeted. It read: ‘OMFG!!!! JUST been promoted to 2nd in Command!!!! Thanks to everyone who’s been with me on this journey!!!!
Jesus slammed his fist down on the bed. His mind raced. Peter? Peter who drove around in his red sports car flirting with angels? Peter who borrowed his pens and never gave them back? Peter who denied him three times before the cock crowed?
After the Holy Spirit resigned, Jesus was sure God would choose him as second in command. His head swam. This was too far. He had too many questions, and needed answers.
God was in bed. He had a nightcap both on his head and in his hand.
‘What time do you call this?’ he boomed. The tinny phone speakers diminished the booming somewhat.
‘You promoted Peter’
God sighed. ‘You heard’
‘Peter’s a good guy’
‘Do you know how hard I’ve been working?’
‘I know you’ve worked hard, but I have to give somebody else a chance. I don’t want people thinking-’
‘So that’s it, is it? After all I did.’ Jesus felt himself shaking.
‘Well, for one thing, Peter cares about his appearance!’
‘Oh, is a crown of thorns not in vogue?’
‘Jesus Christ, will you get over it? It’s been two thousand years!’
‘No, Dad! I won’t!
‘It’s just, Peter’s younger, a bit more go-getting, you know?’
Jesus ended the call, his brain thumping. He fell into the bed. Jesus wept.
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