God smiles at me. His large jagged teeth glittering in the moonlight. His breath smells of decay. A Cheshire cat grin of disinterest. Fading to black.
He knows something. But will not give up his secret. He is no one special, but will not admit it. His power is only to destroy. That is practical divinity.
The webs he weaves come apart quickly. And Spiderman tumbles to earth. Broken heart or broken leg. It doesn’t matter. Breaking is the only goal.
I spy his shadow. Barely discernable on a cloudy day. As pre-rain air clings to human skin. A frown posed on unbelieving lips. The joke unappreciated.
This is the riddle. This is the story. This is the end. There is no smile. There is no secret. There is no plan. There is no shadow. Only the eternal grimace.
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