Jim Anderson, God

Bumped into God at the supermarket. He was knocking on a watermelon, unsure if it was ripe.

"I was trying the thump test," He said, "But the echo is deceptive. Plus my hearing isn't so great after all these years. Once I tried cracking the skin with My fingernail, but the stocker was glaring at Me. Hey, I was gonna buy it anyway, outta shame."

I picked up the watermelon, rotating it in my hands. "I look for a big yellow patch," I said, pointing to the big yellow patch. "And try lifting it up to feel if it's heavier than you'd think it'd be." I hurked it up and down, and handed it over to God.

"You don't say," He said. "I wonder if I could make a watermelon so heavy I couldn't lift it."

I forced a laugh, tossed a grapefruit or two in my basket and jetted toward the deli. "Nice talkin', God," I called out. He just sighed and went back to thumping the watermelon.





Author's Note: I am not this Jim Anderson.




[forty-ninth in a series]