God made mud.
God got lonesome.
So God said to some of the mud, “Sit up!”
“See all I’ve made,” said God, “the hills, the sea, the sky, the stars.”
And I was some of the mud that got to sit up and look around.
Lucky me, lucky mud.
I, mud, sat up and saw what a nice job God had done.
Nice going, God.
Nobody but you could have done it, God! I certainly couldn’t have.
I feel very unimportant compared to You.
The only way I can feel the least bit important is to think of all the mud that didn’t even get to sit up and look around.
I got so much, and most mud got so little.
Thank you for the honor!
Now mud lies down again and goes to sleep.
What memories for mud to have!
What interesting other kinds of sitting-up mud I met!
I loved everything I saw!
I will go to heaven now.
I can hardly wait…
To find out for certain what my wampeter was…
And who was in my karass…
And all the good things our karass did for you.
I know this is meant to be a cynical indictment of humanity, because Vonnegut. But for my money, can we please replace #gratitude with #ILovedEverythingISawGoodNight.
I was trying to explain another world, one I had always wanted to find. . . . Some light—the light at the end of the day, the way it hit the pigeons that flew around the steeple, the way it hit the sides of the building—that light felt like entrances to another world.
- Sara Majka, Cities I’ve Never Lived In
… while we do auditions.