Adam was a Good Idea

by jerrontables

The First Man

God’s eye
Paints me.
Breathes and
Lives me,
Pokes and
Points Forth.
Body,
Mind,
Connections.
All in working order.

He is I AM.
I am
Scooter.

Millennia upon millennia, the curse of my curses branches from the seed of knowledge. My pain. My distance from God. Suffered from the very first. Horrid, the weakness of Eve.

And the weakness of Scooter is the weakness of me.

For what this rabid dance about race? My skin is different from your skin. Where is a difference that means something, that changes the way we can interact, that threatens you or me? Where is the seed that sprouts this malice? For whose sake if not Hate’s? The Devil is in us–but so is God. We are all born of the line of Scooter.

Dearest Eve,

I am really not happy with what’s happened. For one, you could have been bitten. I worry about you all day and–yep!–come to find out you’re playing with snakes. You may not know about them yet, but I named the things and I’ve seen them in action. I am not happy about your bold interactions with the unknown. Second, our entire line is forever doomed to suffer trenchant physical and mental pain. I’m not very happy about that, either. Well, it’s only a hundred years for us, or however long we live. What is life? What is death? I suppose we’ll find out in good time. This is all so weird!

Fruitfully yours,

Scooter

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