Sitting on the edge of the bedframe, I clasped my hands in fitful prayer and addressed the figurine of Christ on my shelf.

“God,” I began, “why do bad things happen to me?”

At once a blinding flash illuminated my room through the window and I heard a thunderous clap from across the undulating hills. The flash receded, but a steady halo of light remained, a spotlight beaming down from the clouds onto the side of my apartment.

“HIYA LAUREN,” boomed a voice like ten thousand tympani through a Tibetan temple. “YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO BE A BIT MORE SPECIFIC THAN THAT.”

“Gosh God, I didn’t think you would actually respond. But now that you’re here, I wanted you to know that I’ve had a very bad day.”

“HOW SO?” sounded a voice like one hand clapping.

“Well, I totally bombed my big interview this morning. I was ten minutes late, and they said that was unacceptable, and I mean, that wasn’t my fault, I was trying to come ten minutes early but the train was held up for an eternity because apparently there was a drunk guy lying on the tracks ahead of Knoxbury station and the police took so long to lug him off—”

“OH YEAH,” chuckled a voice like a giant mushroom, tendrils snaking beneath seafloors, folds rippling across continents, “THAT GUY.”

“Wait, you know about this?”

A rumble shook the apartment to its foundations before resolving itself into speech. “YEAH. HE’S FUN TO DROP IN VARIOUS PLACES.”

“So you put him there?” I asked. “I mean, I guess you’re God, you can do anything. But you knew I had this interview, so I guess I’m asking why would you do that to me?”

“UH. SOMETIMES—” tolled a voice like a bronze bell-tower ringing across an endless expanse of marble courtyards. “IT BUILDS CHARACTER. YEAH. THAT’S IT. THE WORLD DO BE LIKE THAT SOMETIMES.”

“That’s all?” I cried, exasperated. “That’s all you have to say? Do you know how much I had riding on this interview?”

“HEY LOOK A DISTRACTION!” crashed a voice like great rolling waves breaking on a craggy coast. Then the spotlight from heaven flickered out, leaving the hills bare, stretching lifeless under the dark, and it was just me and the bedframe and the figurine, sad red silhouettes in the afterglow.