Where Shall I Turn?

When God came back, He wasn't what most people had been expecting. He packed up the planets and the stars, put the sun back in its box, and shook the ground out like a rug. He plucked out the trees and wrapped a rubber band around them, folded the mountains, and mopped up the sea with a sponge and a bucket. He coughed, then gathered up lives and souls, plucking them out and tossing them in glittering piles. When we shouted and cried out, He spared us a glance.

"Theft? Injustice?" He rumbled. "These are all mine. They always were."

If You Love Something, Let It Go

When the demons came to take our souls, most people were quite upset. The only faction unopposed were the strict materialists, who maintained that they'd never needed souls before and the demons were welcome to them and would you like a glass of Coke before go, Mr. Elzebub?

"You can't do this!" everyone else cried out, as black and dripping claws plucked the damp shreds forth to dry in the sulfurous heat. "Those are ours!"

The demons heard this and laughed, great bellows of hilarity like cannonfire and lightning. Overhead, the pale scraps of soul danced on the burning wind.