G O D
Sometimes God wraps rubber bands around planets. He does this when He feels the universe is too crowded or when He is waiting for the next season of The Walking Dead. His favorite rubber bands are the old beige ones that He finds buried in the bottoms of the kitchen cabinets. These rubber bands have lead marks around their edges and stretch marks every few centimeters. It is unclear how they got this way, who used them before and to what purpose, or how they ended up in God’s kitchen cabinet. God, being the one supreme deity, lives alone and always has.
Alyssa Mazzoli is the assistant non-fiction editor and a design editor for Crashtest magazine. Her work is forthcoming from The Kenyon Review.
A L Y S S A M A Z Z O L I
H E R M E N E U T I C C H A O S J O U R N A L
T H E T R A I N S I N I N G L E S
Ingles, being God’s favorite grocery store, is also where all the dead people shop. Dead people don’t need much, but what they do need they need from Ingles. Loofahs, breath mints, pints of Ben and Jerry. It’s difficult for dead people because they can’t touch anything. They have to ask the living for favors, like Hey can you get that down for me? and No, I said Bertolli. When the dead ask the living for favors, the living get frustrated. They set cans of Prego in the dead people’s shopping carts, then leave before they can be asked to push. Dead people cannot push their own shopping carts. As a result of all this, very few living people go to Ingles. Very few dead people get their shopping done. Ingles becomes a new form of limbo, a holding area. That’s why they have the trains—so the dead people have something to look at. Toy trains, suspended from the ceiling above the movie rental area. Chugging along an endless track.
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