A God in Cotton and Denim

I sat down, a mountain before me. Desperately trying to sift through its greatness, I yanked a shirt out. Though clean, it had wrinkles, like ridges in a great landscape. I laid it out flat, running my hand over the hills and valleys, flattening them. A great re-formation of earth is beginning. Fold it, fold it, and out comes a little village for people to live in, nice and orderly. I put them down in orderly, giving my little people a nice view of the mountain, as they are perched on the couch. 

It’s been so long, at least a minute, and I’ve only gotten one shirt done, one village created. But no- I am the Creator! I must persist.

A pair of pants is pulled, and a dent in the great mountain made. Fold it, fold it- strategically place it. I am the Creator, who decides all things, and this pair of jeans shall be a river, endlessly churning like a runaway train. This will provide stability to my village.

A pair of underwear pulled out. What will this be? Fold it, fold it, ah, yes. A fortress! I place it in front of the village, always looking out. It will protect the people, no doubt. 

More and more clothes, stacked on each other. Soon, there are two villages, and the clothes are like towers! The mountain is gone, in its place a nice farmland, for the people. I have given them everything, and expect payment. A sacrifice, perhaps? A feast?

As I soon found out, the people are daring. The two villages, instead of waging war, have begun to come together and sway under the influence of a ruler. A different ruler, not me! They worship him, after all I have done. The Creator is mad, angered by the people. I decide that they will be no more. 

My full height towers above the people, the shirts and the undies, and they mistake me for a giant. No, I am God. These people, they are mortals and I can do as I please. 

My giant hand scoops up folded clothes after clothes. They will spend eternity in the dark drawers, the only place the Creator dares not go.

I can hear their screams as they fall into the abyss, though it is of their own making. The humans are no more.