God Does Exist, And He’s Watching Us From Last Word Bookshop

God exists. I’ve seen him. He’s always there, in the bookshop, tip-tapping away at his little computer. The image of sage wisdom and omniscient knowledge. Peering over his glasses, looking down at his desk just as he peers down at the rest of us. 

What’s he doing in there, at all hours of the night? What a vigilant soldier he is, guarding his little bookstore. I’ll be walking back late, late in the night, walking solemnly, carousing wildly and still — still he’ll be there. Watching. Waiting. Tip-tapping away. 

I should not let this surprise me. He has a universe to run, after all, a simulation to keep in check, a bug to iron out, here or there. I wish I could be as calm as he is. Staring gently at his computer, as if he were looking at a newborn babe. Gently, he tip-taps the night away. 

Without fail, I see him — Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday — every day but Sunday. This should not surprise me. He is God, after all. And as any good little human knows, God rests on Sundays. He’s so busy at all hours of the night on so many nights that he deserves a day off. Out of all of us, he needs it the most. A night to not tip-tap away. 

Before I noticed him, sitting there, I didn’t believe in God. I didn’t think it possible that one entity could tangle and untangle all the little strings of the universe on his own. But he can. I know he can. That little man sitting behind his desk in the Last Word, he helped me find my faith. 

Or fuck it, maybe he just really likes books.