Good Day
by Luna "Tic" Vee
***
Mmm... It was one of those days when nothing could go wrong.
Absolutely nothing.
Absolutely NOTHING could possibly go wrong.
Nothing could knock him off his cloud.
Nothing.
The well-dressed voice of God walked down the street happily, smiling as he went. Rain poured down all around him, and thunder crashed overhead, while lightening streaked across the sky in beautiful flashes of colour.
But not once did he get wet.
The pitter of raindrops smacking the pavement filled his ears, while the juxtaposition of hellish cracking from the sky made him smile. Today was a good day.
All was running smoothly in Heaven today. All was running relatively well on Earth. No renegade angels to keep in check. No missing deity to track down. No relatives of deities to lecture. No closet-homosexual stoners to bitch at. And it was his day off.
Nobody was on the roads. Nobody was on the sidewalks. Nobody was outside, period, as the storm raged on. They just peered out their windows at the peculiar smiling man, who walked down the center of the road, never once getting even dampened by the sheets of rain cascading down from the heavens.
Yes, thought Metatron, it was a wonderful day. Absolutely wonderful. Nothing could possibly put him out of his wonderful mood. Absolutely nothing. He was euphoric. The weather was beautiful, and he felt good for the first time in forever. He wished he could have more days like this off of work.
Yes, absolutely nothing could ruin his day.
That is, until he tripped and landed in a puddle.
Then his whole day was just shot.
***
Disclaimer: I own diddly squat. The portrayed version of Metatron property of Kevin Smith, View Askew, Miramax, and the Martians that live in Scott Mosier's left ear.
The original Metatron belongs to He who is called I Am. Waddup, G?
***
Authoress' Notes: Nother one I pulled out of my ass. This one is fucked up. O.o Not sure what happened here, but it isn't pretty. Ah well, I just needed a short little writing exercise, and this was it.
***
Questions? Comments? Nasal Spray? E-mail me at Druidess@msn.com
***
Visit the Kevin Smith Slash mailing list! A big shiny amount of romance involving the residents of the Askewniverse! I'm not just an advocate, I'm a member! Enjoy!
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/KSslash
***
Thanks for reading! Please drop a review before you leave! Thank-a-lank-a-ding-dong!
by Luna "Tic" Vee
***
Mmm... It was one of those days when nothing could go wrong.
Absolutely nothing.
Absolutely NOTHING could possibly go wrong.
Nothing could knock him off his cloud.
Nothing.
The well-dressed voice of God walked down the street happily, smiling as he went. Rain poured down all around him, and thunder crashed overhead, while lightening streaked across the sky in beautiful flashes of colour.
But not once did he get wet.
The pitter of raindrops smacking the pavement filled his ears, while the juxtaposition of hellish cracking from the sky made him smile. Today was a good day.
All was running smoothly in Heaven today. All was running relatively well on Earth. No renegade angels to keep in check. No missing deity to track down. No relatives of deities to lecture. No closet-homosexual stoners to bitch at. And it was his day off.
Nobody was on the roads. Nobody was on the sidewalks. Nobody was outside, period, as the storm raged on. They just peered out their windows at the peculiar smiling man, who walked down the center of the road, never once getting even dampened by the sheets of rain cascading down from the heavens.
Yes, thought Metatron, it was a wonderful day. Absolutely wonderful. Nothing could possibly put him out of his wonderful mood. Absolutely nothing. He was euphoric. The weather was beautiful, and he felt good for the first time in forever. He wished he could have more days like this off of work.
Yes, absolutely nothing could ruin his day.
That is, until he tripped and landed in a puddle.
Then his whole day was just shot.
***
Disclaimer: I own diddly squat. The portrayed version of Metatron property of Kevin Smith, View Askew, Miramax, and the Martians that live in Scott Mosier's left ear.
The original Metatron belongs to He who is called I Am. Waddup, G?
***
Authoress' Notes: Nother one I pulled out of my ass. This one is fucked up. O.o Not sure what happened here, but it isn't pretty. Ah well, I just needed a short little writing exercise, and this was it.
***
Questions? Comments? Nasal Spray? E-mail me at Druidess@msn.com
***
Visit the Kevin Smith Slash mailing list! A big shiny amount of romance involving the residents of the Askewniverse! I'm not just an advocate, I'm a member! Enjoy!
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/KSslash
***
Thanks for reading! Please drop a review before you leave! Thank-a-lank-a-ding-dong!