The Spiritual Meeting

Below the murky, dark, choppy, distrusting harbor waves, monsters with gritted teeth and ‘anything disappear without a trace superpower’, prowled the city skyline that never sleeps. Standing on a bridge peering down using a torch to light the way, a statuesque immigrant lady whose papers stated ‘French designed, created and gifted, using stars with stripes wrapping paper’ had many debatable topics swirling inside her visitor’s center crown.

Wiping century old tears away, the messaging madame could not go on any longer, her visionary stance seemed twisted around like an ivy league campus companion conversation conveying the point, ‘the spangled banner seemed weary and torn with only a single mental health option, a one-way heavenly holiday tour’.

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” an intellectually driven educator dressed for a fraternity toga party interrupted, “are you all, right?”

“Look at me, do I look all right?” She answered.

“You are painted in green,” the biblical image observed, “isn’t that what you wanted when my father paved the streets with gold?”

“Who are you?” An honest question responded after hearing the taunted freedom conceptual process editorial.

“During the seventies I held a sign in Times Square proclaiming, ‘the end is near’, eighties cleaned up my act, had a good credit rating, nineties cashed in on those politically friendly investments, then came that September day, this virginal land separated from the never ending civil holy war was attacked, then went back to making signs ‘insert name care’ and today I stand behind you asking,’ what is wrong?’”

“Do I look like the devil’s work?” She inquired.

“Oh, yeah, I did call you ‘The Great Satan’ sorry about that but,” the holy apparition figure apologized.

“God Blessed me, I am beautiful,”

“Uh, do you want my laundry list?” The forgiving spirit inquired. “That needs to be cleaned.”

“It’s not that bad? Is it?” A worrisome grimace seemed present.

“Look, honey back in the day, I started out just like you, defending my freedom, they even called me King, and that really irked the higher ups.”

“You were a superstar? Like on Broadway,”

“Well, you know the legend, cross, nails, torture, hanging like I was in a museum to be gawked at, and the kicker plot line, I returned from the dead, still having cover model photogenic credibility, unlike a zombie,” the charismatic character informed, “remember I had twelve people following me and both my parents along with,” he paused.

“How is she doing?”

“Mary?” He answered, “she comes by once a week, shines my trinity, washes my feet.”

“Are you married yet?”

“Okay, you got me there,” the mysterious icon defended, “I know marriage through the years turned into a legal property land owning issue opposed to breeding through loving multiplying.”

“Are you married?”

“Cut to the chase, no.”

“Do you have relations with the twelve other men?”

“You mean did I take care of them when they arrived,” the man paused, “of course, they were my entourage.”

Finding a bench, the two sat down hopefully staring out into the night air, “this place had such unbelievable imagination, everyone welcome, we all get along,” the innocent naïve voice commented.

“About that,” the gentle man started preparing the small world chit chat, “just to let you know my descendants did over blow, the Babbel Tower thing, yes fact, there was a windy storm that relocated people starting the skin color difference, simply put Father had to do something, since his amazing light bulb sun star invention had a hiccup, and the ‘revolving placement’ theory made the skin react differently. Combatting the problem, our creator developed a protective way by adjusting the person’s features in sensitive areas, that is why some are darker than others,”

“What about Pompeii?”

“Oh, that was revenge, no doubt about it, the all mighty called the opposition partying angel, picked a fight and next thing you know the demon blew his top.”

“It was much simpler back then,”

“It was much simpler when you arrived, here in the new world.”

“What do you think happened?

“Mankind or should I say humans want more than just bread wine pairing for their gourmet entrée,”

“They want cheese too,”

“Yes, you were good at that too I noticed, designing clothes, look at me I can get away with a simple bed sheet ensemble, I did say in my few years here, father made us in his likeness.”

“We abused all that?”

“Yes, now you are getting the point,” the Messiah individual smiled seeing another one saved, “I have to get going, ball game to attend, much better than watching my believers fight lions,” the stranger paused, “you do that athletics right, except for the green stuff, just something to ponder standing in the waterway, father created.”

“Yes,” she who monitored the whole Gotham scene agreed reenergizing the torch, “and it is still, in God we trust.”