“Who are you?” asked God.
“I’m your son” answered the boy.
“Do I know you?”
“It is me, Father!”
“Where were you, when I was looking for you? I’ve been calling for you for so long…”
“I was here, didn’t you see me?”
“I only saw dust, stain in the light. Do you know my son?”
“I was afraid, scared, I couldn’t say sorry. Is it too late?”
“I don’t know you.” God was muttering. “I need to think, I knew it could detour, all these efforts and now…” It was like everything has stopped for a moment as God said stunningly, “I have nothing, I’ve lost my family, too…”
“…I don’t know what to say…”, the answer was quavering.
“Leave, we can not talk directly anymore!”, God sounded thunderous. “If you were my son, you would stand right here, and we would discover the world together. You are the son of the enemy of love, you have chosen a different fate… This is the last time we talk… Maybe, one day…” God’s voice faded and there was silence.
“Please, wait! Why is it happening? Why with me?” The questions echoed and felt dry. “I can not be the reason…” Long time passed, hours, days, weeks. There was no talking, no sounds, just survival. Only at nights, in dreams, the angels heard the whispers, “I miss you, Father, I’m sorry…”