Almost Perfect

3. DAMAGED GODS
GOD IS DEAD (BORED)

The city was made of silver and glass and spun and twisted across the surface of the planet like a brilliant thread.

Wherever the sun struck it, it glowed, the metal singing with heat and light and brilliance. Everywhere there was a song in the air, and a warmth.

It was, visitors had said, like the first day of spring, but forever.

Outside the city, grass of the greenest hue washed down towards a beach whose sand was, to some eyes, just a little pink.

And up and down crawled creatures – such creatures, like insects carved from jewels, or jewels grown out of insects. And each creature, as it moved, made a little noise with its wings – a happy little sound of wonder and joy. If the creatures flew, it was to make merry little trips up to the very highest tower, where they hung happily for a few seconds before drifting gently away on a warm breeze to settle somewhere else.

And inside the spire, at the top of a thousand beautiful steps that the insects would occasionally crawl dutifully up, in a hall made of glass polished by the sun of a thousand years, sat two beings. They were content. They had been content for centuries, and would be content for centuries more.

Everything was perfect.

But there was a third being in the room. And the third being was actually terribly bored.