Where is god?

🛑 Adult content, language, drugs, abuse (multiple forms), please read with discretion. May be a trigger for some reader. Reader discretion advised.

This story has massive amounts of adult content. So much out of my wheel house, here’s to something different.

Psalm 21:23

²¹ Do not let the oppressed retreat in disgrace;
    may the poor and needy praise your name.
²² Rise up, O God, and defend your cause;
    remember how fools mock you all day long.
²³ Do not ignore the clamor of your adversaries,
    the uproar of your enemies, which rises continually.

Where is god?

Is there a god? As I sit on the creek bank watching a turtle swim by; I wonder, where’s god? Is he in the grave with my parents? Is he in the sunlight? Is he that turtle? Where’s god?

The tranquility of this scene pulled me to sleep.

I dream. 

A man clamors out of the drivers side window of a sideways SUV, falling to the road. “FUCK! What the fuck? Man! Shit!” He shouted as he got to his knees before trying to stand only falling back against the smoking SUV.

A woman finally spoke, “bay-bee, bay-bee? Whur the hell are we? What the fuck did ja hit? I didn’t think a squirrel was soooooo big?” Her greasy bleach blond head peeked out of the window he had fell from.

“Stupid bitch, I didn’t hit a fuckin’ squirrel.”

She falls out of the SUV and lands on her butt on the road, laughing all the way. As she staggers to get up, she notices that her tank top was soaking wet. “Shit! Bay-bee, the beers got me all wet.” Then giggles some more. “Know,” she struggles to stand; “this could be really hot.” She grabs at him. “I could take care of that right now.”

“We got bigger problems.”

She becomes a pile of human drunkenness on the road; sulking in his rejection.

Sirens can be heard in the distance; making themselves known.

“The DRUGS!” They shout together and run in different directions into the morning.

A child; about 3, was sitting in the grass near the smoking SUV watching this scene unfold, with the blank curiosity. 

The sound of crickets broke me from my dream. It’s amazing the bullshit we remember. Things I’d much rather forget. But it’s these things that fuel my anger. It’s these nightmares that keep me going. How I hate them.

My stomach growled. ‘Where am I gonna get food?’ I thought rubbing my long thin fingers through my unwashed hair. Then it hit me, ‘Maggie.’