Preordained in the present

The probabilistic impossibility of it all is really what forced him to do what He did. In fact, fate couldn’t have changed the outcome – this was determined solely by Him, an act so vicious yet so manifest, it lived outside the realm of ordinary destiny. Everyone saw it coming, of course, and were surprised when it happened. As the bridge fell, intuitions were justified and guesses were affirmed. Psychological diagnoses were called into question. Bricks in free fall rained down upon the quaint blue sea, along with vehicles that seemed inexorably stuck to the road even while falling. Gravity could not be denied and a fall from that height was certain to kill all those on the bridge. The frozen faces of people inside the cars seemed to show an intense combination of fear, surprise, regret, and a sense of fulfillment. Passers by on the side of the river were not only unable to stem the tide of destruction, but didn’t even have the ability to turn and look at what was going on. Their bodies remained facing forward, their actions betraying a desire and need to continue doing what He had prescribed despite their proximity to such carnage.

You see, these people had been put there for a purpose.

Only one man controlled the destruction and yet He was the same one who had built the city. After six long days of creation following a detailed rulebook, the last day was one of play and unbridled destruction. An exquisite desire for plot, story, causality, and in general, something to happen, is what prompted it.

The airplane He had built just hours before was what had bombed the bridge, propelled by the mechanical motion of His visible hand. The colors of the airplane, the unflinching face of the pilot, and a decision from the higher ups indicated this was a declaration of war. The rival city, mere miles down the road, had always been a thorn in their side and now things were getting serious. Even though He was the one who had decided war was what was needed, the members of both cities were inflamed and played their parts as citizens of war well. The bridge was where it had begun, but certainly not where it would end.

And then it was over. His parents yelled “Calvin! Time for bed!” He put his dinosaurs and LEGOs down for a second and resumed his holy war against bedtime.