Michelle sat on god’s throne in Heaven. The great crystalline hall made golden by the late afternoon sun. Squinting her eyes, she wished he hadn’t made it this bright.
She shifted her tired body. It had taken hours to quell the worst of the riots. The ones who had escaped into Hell were now Plato’s problem. There wasn’t any more time to waste on them. Shifting uncomfortably again, she hoped that her throne was fitting Plato better than god’s throne was fitting her.
“Why had the old grouch made this chair so blessed uncomfortable?”
“Maybe,” Valerie had found an intact chair and placed it to the right of god’s throne before dropping wearily into it. “Maybe he didn’t want to ever feel too comfortable while ruling.”
That actually made sense. If it was true, it would increase her respect fo
