[WP] After you laze about in a looped day for years, God finally stages an intervention to tell you that you’re supposed to be trying to get out of the loop.

I’m not usually this irritated. Rather, I’ve always been perceived as the very opposite. I mean, at least sometimes. Don’t dwell on that too much.

What I’m saying is I’m normally not this irritated. This is bordering on enraged. I’m standing in my office, staring at the calendar on the wall, tapping my foot. Today’s date is February 20th, 2019.

This guy has been there for five years now, to the day.

I roll my eyes and, with a huff, storm out of the office. I head for the bathroom. I check myself in the mirror. I still don’t quite understand how I continue to look this young with all of the shit I have to deal with on a daily basis.

I sigh and turn on the water. I cup some of it in my hands and splash my face a few times. The cold is nice. With my eyes closed, I feel around for the temperature knobs, and once I find them, I turn the water off. I resume until I grab the hand towel and pat my face with it. I open my eyes and put the towel back. My face is cool and dry.

Okay. Remember: you’re patient. You’re genteel. You’re benevolent. All that jazz. It’s time to act like it, so shape up!

I take a deep breath and let it out again.

I fall through the floor and start floating. I’m transported from my home and down into the void, gliding through empty space. Finally, I reach that quaint, suburban neighborhood. I’m hovering right over his house. I inhale again.

“Zach.”

I can see him in there. I can tell that he noticed something, but dismissed it just as quickly.

Oh boy. He’s in for a treat.

I won’t lie, this is my favorite part. I have to keep from laughing.

“Zach,” I say again. “You know who I am.”

“What the fuck?” he asks. He’s by himself. “Don’t make me—”

“I’m in your head, son,” I tell him. “It’s not the neighbors. It’s me.”

He shoots up from his couch, alarmed.

“Must be hearing things…” he murmurs.

Well, as they like to say: seeing is believing.

I descend further from the sky and slip through his roof. I enter the room, filling it entirely with light, blinding him. He’s raised his hands, trying to shield his eyes to no avail. I hold my arms out to him as I land on the floor, and the light instantly scatters. There I am in all of my glory, my robes billowing. He’s clearly in awe.

He lowers his hands slowly, his mouth agape.

“Hello, Zach,” I say with a smile. “I’ve had my eye on you for a long time now. We used to talk a lot, yet since I hadn’t heard from you in a while, I thought I’d come check on you.”

He’s still speechless.

I can only keep up the charade for so long this time.

“You do know who I am, right?” I ask.

He clamps his mouth shut and swallows. I can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

“I do,” he replies. “But, uh… I don’t think this is real.”

I’m fed up. I’m getting decidedly impatient.

“Seriously?!” I demand. “Have you not noticed that you’ve been in a time loop, living the same day for five years? That’s been very real!”

“Yeah!” he says defensively. “I know it’s the anniversary today! I just didn’t think I’d meet God any time soon.” He gets sarcastic. “What, is it my ‘time’ or something?”

“Wow,” I scoff. “No, it is not your time, Zach. Although I know a guy, if you’re desperate to find your way to an early grave. And you know who I mean. So keep talking.”

That shuts him up.

Alright, that was a bit harsh. I realize I must’ve been scowling this whole time because I can sense my face finally relaxing. It’s not exactly polite, God threatening people with death. But sometimes, I’ve done that, too.

Really, don’t think about it too hard.

At last, I place a hand on his shoulder.

“Son…” I say. “Did you know that you were supposed to be trying to get out of this loop?”

Zach doesn’t answer. That’s when I recognize that he hasn’t made eye contact with me once. I don’t know how I missed it.

“Zach, look at me,” I tell him.

He doesn’t even do it right away. Yet after I squeeze his shoulder gently, he lifts his eyes, and I look into them. They’re like all the others. And I don’t mean that in a bad way.

“You know that you can talk to me,” I assure him.

Zach nods, even chuckles.

“Yeah…” he croaks.

He relents and lowers himself to sit back down on the couch. He clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he continues. “This is, uh, still a lot to take in.”

I smile at him.

“It always is,” I say.

He smiles back weakly. I join him and put my hands on my knees.

“Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” I ask. “When did you find out you were stuck here?”

Zach laughs this time. He looks me straight in the eye.

I already know before he even starts telling me. I care about him too much to tell him to stop.