VIRTUAL EDEN

The creation of reality, virtually.

“You’re a minger,” smiled Baldilocks to the love of his life, Bemuseder. “And of all the lovelies in the world I’m glad I’ve got a minger.”

“You’re so sweet,” sighed Bemuseder, “I’m such a lucky wallop to be with you...”

“Me too,” sighed her spouse, and he threw her a kiss.

“Hey! That hurt!” she almost shouted, “Your kisses must be the heaviest kisses on the whole stinking planet!”

“It’s because I’m besotted,” he grinned. “Show us your bimmies!”

“Now that’s enough of that kind of talk!” Suddenly she sounded cross. She didn’t like talk like that and had made it plain to him often enough during their time together.

“Sorry,” he whispered, contrite. “Do you remember the day we met?”

“Would I ever forget!” She was cheerful again. The crosspatch that had momentarily blotted her face was gone, and he sighed his relief.

“Stinkapoo!” he giggled.

“You were wandering through the virtual Eden,” she sighed. “There were so many flowers under your feet, so many puffy clouds in the skies above you, and so much sweetness in the dew that lay all around…”

“And then you came along, dressed so pretty, the prettiest minger I ever did see!” he chortled. “And you were dressed so prettily, the pink of your whatsit contrasting so sweetly with the colour of your face.”

“My whatsit was a dress!” she protested. “And if you focused your eyepods you could have seen through it!”

“Oh, so you noticed?” he smirked. “I thought I’d kept my eyepods to myself! But if a lad’s shown then it behoves that lad to look!”

“Tell me the story,” she asked. “You know, the old one about the start of everything, about the creation of virtual Eden and the first ever minger.”

“You really want to hear it again?” he grinned.

“And again and again and again,” she affirmed.

“Then I better had!”

“While we’ve got time,” she hurried him.

“Well then, here goes, if time’s so important.” Baldilcoks frowned for a moment, then launched into his story. “In the beginning was darkness, just the humming of resting circuits and the black of the void...”

“What’s a circuit?” she asked.

“Later, when I’ve finished the big story,” he frowned, and continued. “Then our Creator stirred. He had been sleeping for so many for-evers we’ll never be able to get our heads round them. There was the beginnings of light all around him and he opened his omniscient eyes and yawned...”

“Yawned? You never said that before!” protested Bemuseder.

Baldilocks grinned. “It’s how stories grow,” he said smugly, “bits get added as time passes. Anyway, to continue. After he yawned he cleansed himself. He did that every time he woke up, for our god is a very clean god and doesn’t like muck or filth in his world.”

“You do, wanting to see my bimmies like you did!”

“They’re not muck or filth,” he objected. “Are they?”

She shook her head. “No,” she murmured.

“Then let me continue. Our dear Lord went right up to his console...”

“What’s a console, Baldilocks?” asked his lover.

“It’s a place where orders are issued and worlds get created,” Baldilocks told her, “It’s a wonderful place filled with joy and magic! It’s where our god sends current hurtling through circuits, where pixels get created, where life is born and screens light up….”

“I love this part,” smiled Bemuseder, “I love the way you tell it.”

“Our god paused for a moment,” whispered Baldilocks, “and he saw that life was wanted! So he pressed the ON and there was light,” murmured Baldilocks, “and the whole of the Universe was flooded with that light, and the first minger breathed and kissed and sprung into being illuminated by that light, and the virtual Eden that is our paradise grew pretty and fragrant everywhere...”

“The beginning of everything,” sighed Bemuseder.

He nodded. “The beginning of everything,” he sighed.

“And we’re here!” she laughed, joyously, “we’re here to live our lives, to be together, to make love, to do all the things we were created to do, and be together… until...”

“Yes,” he murmured gravely. “Until...”

“Say, Baldilocks...” demanded Bemuseder.

“Until the light fades and our wonderful god presses...”

“Presses what?” asked Bemuseder.

“The OFF,” wept Baldilocks, “and then darkness will fall for ever and ever and ever...”

“Until?” she prompted him.

He looked at her and shook his head sadly. “Until the next creation,” he murmured, “but that will be long after we’re gone, you and me and your bimmies.”

“Long after,” she said sadly.

And in the wholeness of the Universe daylight faded to night.

It was bed time. The player touched OFF.

© Peter Rogerson 26.07.17