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There is a diner on the street just on the corner of the end of the world.
There, they serve plates of hope and coffee from the finest inquiry of people’s dreams.
A man and a woman sit across the counter we are sharing. Brother and sister, I think. No, husband and wife.
They are not Adam and Eve, but they could be.
“Didn’t I tell you not to get the cake? What money is there to spend on it anyway?”
I meet eyes with God who sits behind the counter in all white. He quietly shifts around under the counter, looking where he keeps his magical wand.
“It is only cake, dear. There is no harm in a little treat.”
I ordered the cake myself. From looking at her plate I see it's the devil kind. God answers with a sharp knife, a cut, and plate, and a nod in acknowledgement as he places it before me. It’s even topped with cream. How about that.
The man and woman bicker about the cake. Eve wants Adam to try it. He’s tempted, but refuses.
He does not live, but Eve lives too much.
To be fair to the two of them, I eat only half of the cake slice. Right down the middle, even splitting the cream. God watches, but doesn’t change his expression. He doesn't care if I want to tempt my soul. I don’t care either. I pay and then I leave.
