Relaying some recent events

What a strange week I just had. It was exactly like one of those movies about a worldwide plague. This harsh virus swept thru and sickened every single person alive, instantly; except I alone remained in perfect health — apparently I was naturally immune. 

Yes, this disaster lasted just one week: everyone else came down with the bug and also got over it collectively — one morning, they all woke up and were ill; then, after seven days, everyone got better. 

At the time, since I did not know how long this state of universal sickness would last, it was really scary. First, I was embarrassed for being such an oddball, because I wasn't coughing or sneezing like everyone else; I actually started panicking, wondering what was wrong with me, wishing that I would start to develop symptoms like all the normal people. Then, once I begrudgingly accepted that I was somehow magically protected from this illness, my panic took a new direction — I began to fret about how best to utilize my health for the good of all: Perhaps I should dash from one ailing individual to the next, offering aid, since I'm the only person with enough energy to move about freely... Yet, on second thought, if I do that, I'm still only one lone human; so, even if I completely exhaust myself attempting to nurse the sick, I will only be able to help a fraction of a percentage of the population. 

Plus, God was already attending to all the people: He came down from the sky right away, as soon as the plague began, and started administering care to everyone, giving them water & medicine, stroking their hair and singing them softly to sleep. He even spoke to me directly, saying: 

"Bryan, I got this. Your only responsibility is to use the talents that I blessed you with to do the things that you feel called to do. As you said in your thoughts, you can't move fast enough to help all these people anyway; so leave that to me. I can accomplish up to a million tasks at once, and I know what each person needs before he or she even prays. So, just go about your business as you normally would." 

I listened to these words of God, and, when he finished his speech, I made a facial expression that meant "Are you joking or serious?" — God waved his arm impatiently and said "Go!" 

So I walked over to my old beat-up sofa and opened the screen on my laptop computer. I logged on to my favorite social network and a smile came to my face, for I saw that friends & family had shared many photos from their lives. Of course, all these postings were a few days old, because everyone was sick at the moment and thus unable to post anything new, but I still enjoyed the feelings that their last updates gave me. My friend Candice had shared a photo of her newborn baby, so I added a comment: "Wow so much hair!" Also my old friend Dave, who is an appliance repairman, shared a picture of a vacuum whose motor he recently fixed. I clicked the beating-heart icon next to this post because I truly felt love for it.

Then I got bored, so I shut off my laptop computer, tossed it in the dustbin, and walked over to the rear window of my house. This presented a view of my backyard. There was a large gray rabbit sitting in the snow. I watched this creature for a long while, expecting it eventually to scurry around; tho it never did move. I began to wonder if perhaps it had died — "Maybe it froze to death from the ice-cold weather," I thought to myself. But, just after thinking this, the rabbit inched over to a nearby shrub and started nibbling one of its twigs. 

Then I put on my winter coat and took a walk down the block to the tool shop. Since everyone in the whole wide world was still sick, the store was empty: no shoppers, no clerks. So I opened the entry door (they never lock it, because we live in a safe neighborhood), flicked on the lights, and began to browse around. It was kinda strange to pick up tool after tool without anyone addressing me with their standard greeting ("Hi there, Bryan! What are you looking for today? May I help you find anything?") — so, having nothing in particular that I needed to purchase at the moment, I decided to mosey over to the cash register. I pressed the button that causes the money drawer to open: I was surprised to behold an abundance of paper bills and metal coins still brimming the trays. (Shouldn't the daily earnings get deposited at the bank, each time the shop closes?) I picked up a wad of $100-dollar bills, fanned thru them, & stuffed them back into their slot. I then pushed some of the copper & silver coins around with my fingers. Finally I half-closed the drawer and walked away. 

Leaving the tool shop, I ambled at my leisure over fields and beside gentle streams. The landscape was beautiful, and so was the sky. After strolling for a great while, night fell; and I kept my gaze fixed on the stars... Then I stopped abruptly in the middle of an empty highway, staring upward: for I noticed that the constellation Orion was being ambushed by the Pleiades — those seven sisters had wrapped themselves around the poor hunter & were endeavoring to hug him to death like the cloak of Hercules. This made me laugh out loud. "Stop that!" I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth for amplification. But the rascals continued their skirmish. "Fine, have it your way: carry on!" I said; then I waved my arm at them dismissively, just as God had done earlier when he wanted me to leave.

So, like I said, the plague ended after one week. That was just enough time for me to grow accustomed to entering shops and restaurants all by myself and simply taking what I needed: I would walk behind the counter at any fast-food franchise and grill a cheeseburger for myself, or prepare a hard-shell taco using the establishment's ingredients. And if I was in a menswear wholesaler, I would pull various items of clothing off their hangers & try them on, one after the next, until I found a leather jacket that made me look fetching; then I would walk out of the store wearing it proudly. 

But when everyone in the world regained their health and came back to work, it felt disturbing to me: for now every store was crowded, and nothing was free anymore; so I stayed home and slept.

God woke me up after a few months and said "Bryan, Bryan, are you OK? Can I get you anything? Food or water? You've been sleeping for so long, I thought you might have frozen to death."

"No," I replied. "I'm just resting. Thanks, tho."

"Are you sure?" God shook my shoulder. "I'm worried that maybe you're depressed."

"No, no," I said; "I'll get out of bed eventually and begin to make something of myself, find a career or whatever. Right now I'm just enjoying the dreams I'm having."

"You're not joking?" said God. "Wait a minute... What kind of dreams can be so good that you prefer them to reality?"

"Well," I said, "I'd rather answer you later, when I'm finished dreaming them all, because they're continuing without me as we speak, and I'm eager to get back to dreamland so that I can rejoin the fun — most are pleasant adventures in friendship & lovemaking (which is to say: the opposite of reality) — but the dream that you happened to interrupt just now was a weirder one: it featured seven camels singing to me in harmony like a barbershop septet at an ice-cream pub. They were telling me that I deserved more rewards, which I think is the truth."

"Hmm," God looked down at the floor; "I see." Then, after a moment, he said, "Alright. I'll let you get back to napping. But don't stay asleep forever. I threw you into spacetime for a reason."

"Yes, I understand," I said, then nodded off.

God remained there at my bedside gazing upon me for a while. Then he returned to the sky and watched the world from his regular vantage point. In the end, everything turned out fine — it's actually not even worth mentioning any further details.