haimish
or heim·ish
adjective Slang.
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Jack looked around. He was in a small, simple hut. Wooden walls and what looked to be a thatched roof surrounded him. A hand made rug lined the floor. There was no art, but the air was filled with a subtle hint of herbs. A small, warm fire crackled inside a clay fireplace across from him. Even the chair he sat on was a simple, wooden piece of furniture.
“Oh good, you’re finally awake. I was starting to worry.” The speaker was a pleasant looking elderly woman who had just entered the hut.
She looked like every grandma rolled into one. She was the jolly kind of plump, complete with rosy cheeks and white hair tied back in a simple bun. She wore rough, home spun clothes and held a basket filled with freshly picked flowers. She looked like she belonged in such a homey place. Like the two had been made for each other.
“I was starting to worry something had happened to you.” She continued. “You were out for so long.”
“Um, excuse me, but I think I’m in the wrong place. I—”
“Oh no, no, you’re exactly where you want to be right now, Jack.”
Jack took in a deep breath. So was he really there? That could not be true. There was no way. But he had never seen this woman before, and yet she knew his name. He did not exactly have his wallet on him either, so that option was out.
“Um, I’m sorry, but…”
“I know, I know, you’re confused. When a man tries to speak with a god, he has certain expectations.” She began placing her flowers on a wooden table barely big enough for one person to eat off. “Grand palaces, choirs of angels, that sort of thing. Am I right?”
“Uh, well, yes, actually. I mean, kind of. I was half expecting some cosmic horror that drained my sanity, but the other half was hoping for the heavenly palace. Are you sure you’re God?”
“A god. Well, goddess in my case.” She gingerly removed the petals from the flowers and placed them in a mesh bag, which she hung above the fireplace. She then went into a shelf and picked a bag that had already been dried, which she placed into a kettle and hung above the fire. Jack had no idea where she had gotten any of that. He was quite sure they had not existed a few moments ago.
“So, if you’re not the Christian God, then who are you?”
“Oh, I’m just some little goddess you’ve never heard of.”
He tried to place her, but his mythology was lacking. She was pale, so probably European. But that was as far as he got.
“Uh, so, what, like…Norse?”
“Close. I’m Celtic. Name’s Airmed, if you must know.”
She had been right. He had no idea who that was. “Uh…”
“Oh, don’t worry yourself about that. I knew you wouldn’t know me. Not many do these days. That’s way of things though. Things get old, things die, get forgotten. One day Yahweh, that is, the Christian god, will be forgotten too.” She watched the kettle closely and listened for the tell-tale whistle before taking it off the fire. She poured the fragrant tea into to simple wooden cups and gave one to Jack. “Now then, on to business. One doesn’t go about a soul sending to a god for no reason, now does he?”
“Well, I was hoping for some advice, actually. I’ve been to a lot of people. Friends, family, counselors, even priests. But none of them could give me a good answer. They all tried, sure, but none of them had any real idea of what I should do. They all said what they would do, or at least what they thought they’d do. But that doesn’t help in my case. So, I thought that God would know. God supposedly knows everything, so why not try. And now, here I am. In your house, drinking tea.” He took a sip. It was very good tea.
“I see. Well, sorry you couldn’t get the god you wanted, but he’s busy these days. Now, I’m always willing to listen to your troubles, and I’ll try and help where I can. But I won’t promise you’ll like what I say, nor can I guarantee my advise is the best out there. Not even us gods can see the future.”
Jack nodded. He set the cup on his lap, took a deep breath, and began.
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Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if people actually could talk to a deity. Like, really talk. Just have a nice conversation with one. What would they say? What would I say? The world will probably never know, but it's nice to think about.
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