How very fragile your God must be

To be threatened by little old me

How very insipid must He be

To be belittled by the likes of me

How very powerless this limitless power

To lose His significance to the powerful me.

Is it your omnipotent God

Or your impotence

That cannot tolerate my perceived defiance?

Is your God so in need of your protection

Of your crying wolf in His name?

Why then he is no god at all

But a mere mortal who cannot permit dissent.



Editing is a humbling exercise

When I finished writing my first draft, I felt this sense of achievement, like my dream was finally within reach. After that last full-stop had been put, I sat back, admiring my courage, my idea and my writing. I was so happy and so full of that happiness that I decided to treat myself and announce to everyone that I had at least put the story down.

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