A God and the one who told his story

Humans usually see a God like an old, sage-like figure sitting on top of the skies on a chair of gold and lightning. In reality, God is just a commoner taking his walk through his neverending sidewalk of life.
His life isn't really that interesting. By day, a cashier at your local Burger King, by night, a night guard at the local museum.
He tries to keep himself occupied, but still, his mind is constantly taken by boredom.

For no good reason he takes walks by the beach at sunset, a few minutes before his shift. He doesn't know why, but he finds himself feeling the warm sand under is toes and the sea breeze a-salting his nostrils.

"Ah, pun intended?" he said to the narrator.

Uh? That's new...
You... Can hear me?
"Nah, I was talking to this crab here." he specified pointing to an orange object at his feet.
That's a rock... Ooh! You got me.
Yeah that was a pun.
"Do you really need to do that?" He asked.
What?
"That thing were you put a dialogue tag after I talk"
That's part of my job. I tell the reader how you speak or act when talking so they can imagine the scene.
"It's a bit annoying." He said looking back at the waving ocean
The God's eyes shone as the rays of the setting sun reflected on his pupils. He had seen the sun countless times but, the scenery of the sea tainted gold and the silver shining sand made it worth the effort of getting there.
"Hey" he started, beggining a question he wasn't ready to know the answer to.
"So... What happens next?" he asked taking a easier aproach.
It's your story so you're the one to decide that. You could go back to your flat or you could go on a godly adventure through the cosmos experiencing wonders beyond the reader's wildest dreams, explore the various cultures of the everexpanding mantle of the tangible universe, witness the birth and death of entire galaxies, etc...
It's your call.
"Back home it is" he responded with a bored sigh
Really? After all that you're going back to that old t1?
"Come on. I'm God.I've done all those things countless times already."
Still wouldn't you rather explore the miracles of the universe.
"I don't want to get used to those things."
Ok. After explaining his motives, he turned around leaving the sound of the waves acompany the memory if the golden waters into his memory lane. The day was ending so it was time to return and prepare his night-shift attire.
"You coming with me?" he asked silently as couple entered the empty beach side.
There's a cut here. So I'll be seeing you back at your work place.
"Ok. Oh, you can call me Teal."
And so Teal walked back home alone with his thoughs of his new acquaintace.










Museuns are one of those places that depend completely on attracting the right type of people. A good museum is a place of gathering for those who search the knowledge of the ancients to find the path to the future. Unfortunaly most museuns fall in a spiral of desperation as their doors threathen to close under the tyrany of the money god. How many have been found to carry fake artifacts or to feed false information? Countless. Selling their soul as guardians of time itself to keep the paper blood pumping through. This one was one of the few who resisted the call of desperation through it's rich history.
The halls were built from smothered stone, clean and gleaming around a light yellow flooring of tiles. Various artifacts were kept in pedestals surrounded by thick layers of clean glass. Some were placed standing in expositions of various topics. Intead of separating the expositions by culture, each room had diferrent objects from the same time period or theme. Beside a emposing faraoh holding high his staff, the whoolly mammoth marched with it's young on a white cape of snow. The corpse of Ceaser laid beside Atila the Hun and Odin, god of asgard. The mexican revolution and the First Great War sat closely, followed by the birth of Charlie Chaplin's career. Next was the Holocaust depicting a powerpoint on the Furher's rise to power, at the sides the Il uce, Benito Mussolini, stood besides the other tirants of the twentieth century Stalin, Salazar, Mao Zedong and other less famous dictators.
"Liking the tour?" Teal asked as the narrator finished his description of his work place. "The twents were crazy as hell. A hell on earth!"
He walked slowly through the halls, his eyes empty, knowing every second of history that was presented before him. Most were true,few had small errors in translation or context and a couple were complete distortions of the passage of mankind.
"You know about those too?" he asked to the narrator
Only from the story's point. Since those revelations are secundary to the plot, I only know of their existence.
"I could explain them to you." he proposed woth a new glint to his eyes.
The stories of humanity's mistakes in their own story were unecessary and irrelevant to the plot so the old God continued his rotine towards his office at the second entrance of the museum.




%%this is a story that's been in my mind for a while now. I don't know where this will go or even if I'll be able to give it a proper ending but I hope you like it. I'll try to update it as I write on my free time so I don't have any schedule for when I'll upload more of this.
See you soon ;~)