Batter Should Have Small Clumps

God was in the kitchen, apron streaked with flour, when she woke up.

“Making blueberry muffins,” He said. “Shouldn’t be much longer.”

She said that was fine and went in to the bathroom, put the toilet lid down and sat on it. She picked at her toes, spun the empty toilet paper roll, and looked at the little bottles of things on the sink. The smoke alarm starting beeping in the hallway. After a while she stood up and flushed.

God was on a stool, trying to pry the battery out of the alarm.

“You’re out of coffee,” He said.


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