The Lord confused the language of the whole world out of spite.
The people were scattered over the face of the earth.
All for building a tower into the heavens to ask him why.
The people were separated. Mothers torn from daughters, fathers from sons, because they had dared to dream, because they had dared to think themselves worthy to approach the Lord.
They had been cast down from the tower, from the Lord’s grace, as one had been before.
He had been flaming as he fell. They rushed to their windows to watch the orange speck approach the horizon. The wind pushed back their hair upon his impact.
They grabbed their tools, wordlessly approaching the nameless heat.
What they found was a crater. A great huge thing, half a mile wide. And the creature was gone.
They no longer needed words. They all had one thought as they began to dig.
If the Lord will not listen to us, maybe the Devil will.
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