GOD'S VOICE

Justin Hughes

I spoke to God today. I had never done it before. Not until a grey-haired bearded man with a sign hung from his neck informed me that I had a meeting scheduled. God had been expecting me, by the phone, waiting for a prayer.

     He told me God speaks to him often, so I asked how that’s possible. He said, ‘It just is.’ He can hear God’s voice in his head, but only when he asks and listens for it. I never believed in God. But I’d had a shit week and an even shittier year, so what luck it turned out I was wrong. I made the call. Better late than never.

      My bedroom has never been so dark. The street outside my window has never sounded so desolate. There are voices in my head, but not one of them sounds like God. I suppose I’m the problem here. Perhaps I have a faulty connection. The call won’t go through.

      I thought I heard Him for a second, but that voice was just telling me I was making a fool of myself. Another one of mine, I suppose. I spoke to God. I listened for Him. He told me He wasn’t home. Try again later. Straight to voicemail.

      I think I’ll just hang up now.