I’ve never been fool enough to expect redemption, but even a tiny spark of recognition of my drudging toil-or even my mere existence-would have been nice. And now He never checks in, doesn’t seem to know or care whether the peons of Hell are getting overworked and fed up. The Creator is the one who set up all the rules. The Boss is just doing his job like the rest of us, just fulfilling his function. Really, the Creator is the one I have the grievance with. He wound the watch up, set the hands, and let it start ticking. No, Hell could get along just fine without me.Īs for the Creator, the One-if you ask me, He hasn’t ever paid the place much notice. I didn’t tell the Boss, didn’t tell anyone I was going. And it’s depressing I can’t tell you how depressing it is. Tormenting the damned-it practically does itself, no lie. It’s not like I was the only one who could do it- anybody could do it. I was just fed up, you know fed up with being a cog in a vast machine, with doing my pointless, demeaning job. I could have made my own, but I wasn’t in an artistic frame of mind.
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