15h • Miscellaneous Posting
Divine Message #2
I was happy that one of the coaches asked me to write a sequel, so I did.
Oh, where am I?
Why am I running through a snowy field in the dark?
Oh, I remember now. I’m running an ultramarathon at the North Pole.
What’s that bright light?
An elderly man appears in the dark sky.
“Hi, Taisei. I’m Amundsen. You’re lucky you’re in my jurisdiction. I guess you’ve got something looking out for you.”
“What? The Amundsen? The first man to reach the South Pole? It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Today, I’ve brought you a good deal. You’re having a hard time paying your tax bill, aren’t you? It’s common knowledge up in heaven.”
“Oh, damn it. Even people in heaven know? So, what’s your point?”
“If you keep running at this pace, in about five minutes you’ll come across a huge black rock. There’s a cave entrance beside it. Go inside. Buried just beneath the ground at the back of the cave, you’ll find my diary. Take it to an auction, and you’ll get enough money to wipe out your tax bill.”
“Really? That’s very kind of you. But why are you telling me such a sweet story? As you know, I’ve already been through something suspiciously similar.”
“It’s because there’s something in it for me, too. There’s one condition: before you take the diary to auction, you must remove and destroy the letters bound inside it. Can you promise me that?”
“Okay. Easy enough. After all, my tax bill will be wiped out. I’ll do it.”
“Good. Have a safe run.”
“Wait, wait! Tell me one thing. Who was the woman I met last time? Why did she choose me?”
“All right. I’ll tell you. She was Cleopatra.”
“What?! That Cleopatra? The legendary beauty?”
Apparently, once someone becomes known to more than ten million people, they are allowed to help with God’s work as a spirit.
Sure enough, I was running in Egypt when I met her.
Anyway, back to the conversation.
“She didn’t look that beautiful. I mean, sure, she was reasonably attractive.”
“Haha. Standards of beauty change over the centuries. Anyway, Cleopatra and I were dating. Then we broke up, and she took my stocks and disappeared.”
“Those stocks?”
“Yeah. They were kind of hush money.”
“Hush money?”
“My wife had caught on to what was going on and was chasing Cleopatra to get the stocks back. So Cleopatra hid them in your garden on the way.”
“Why my garden?”
“Two reasons. First, she knew there would be a flood shortly afterward. Second, you’re probably the person in the world who says ‘So it goes’ most often. She thought you’d just accept whatever happened without making a fuss.”
“So?”
“She planned to snatch the stocks from you when you moved them somewhere. My wife was watching the area, so Cleopatra couldn’t go there herself.”
“I see.”
“And, well… Cleopatra had a nasty personality. But I suppose most beautiful women are like that.”
“Hm.”
“She was also persistent. She was furious that her plan had failed because of you, so she reported you to the tax authorities.”
“What an evil woman! But now I understand. Thank you. Still, after everything she put me through, don’t you think I’m getting the short end of the deal here? Huh?”
“Okay. Then I’ll throw in a little something extra for you.”
And he disappeared.
I started running again.
Five minutes later, I found the black rock, entered the cave, dug up Amundsen’s diary, and eventually brought it to an auction.
It sold for a fortune because it was full of gossip about politicians, royal families, and celebrities of his time. He had plenty of connections with powerful and wealthy people because he needed their financial support to keep his adventures going.
My tax bill was gone.
So we were even.
But what was the “little something extra” Amundsen had given me?
The letters.
They were love letters to his mistress.
He had been afraid his wife might find them because they would have been decisive proof that he had been cheating on her.
Apparently, a couple is still a couple in heaven.
Amundsen had been a genius with women. By reading those letters, I somehow mastered the art of attracting them.
Or maybe he gave me some kind of supernatural power.
Either way, ever since that day, females of every kind—from cats and little girls to elderly nuns—have been chasing me everywhere I go.
Thanks to Amundsen, I now run day and night, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
My life has become one endless ultramarathon.
Then a thought suddenly occurs to me.
Who is the one man in history who was hated by almost every woman in the world?
I hope he appears before me and gives me some tips.
10
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Divine Message #2
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