[Setting: A Narrow Alleyway]
Elliot and Claire are walking home after a quiet dinner, the kind where conversation meanders aimlessly and time feels irrelevant. They’re debating whether to grab dessert when they hear raised voices coming from a nearby alley. Elliot slows, frowning. Claire stops beside him, tilting her head to listen.
Coincidence, God of Coincidences (irritated but not yelling): “You can’t just waltz back in and start meddling. That’s my shtick.”
Sable, God of Irony (calm, smug): “Oh, but it’s not meddling if it’s an ironic inevitability, is it? Don’t worry, old friend, I’m only here to... complement your work.”
Claire’s eyes widen. She tugs Elliot’s sleeve, whispering. “Is that...?”
Elliot (groaning): “Yep. Him. And someone else. Great. Should we just keep walking and pretend we didn’t hear anything?”
Claire shakes her head, curiosity overriding caution. They peek around the corner. Sure enough, Coincidence and a sharply dressed man—radiating an air of confident irony—are facing off like two boxers in a ring.
Coincidence (gesturing wildly): “Complement? You’re the cosmic equivalent of a backseat driver. This is my tapestry, and you keep scribbling on the edges.”
Sable (unfazed): “Call it what you will. Chaos is a performance art; irony is the critique. And your audience deserves both.”
Elliot mutters, “Why does every conversation sound like a philosophy thesis with these people?”
Claire (smirking): “Maybe because they’re all connected to some deeper truth. Or maybe it’s just fun to watch.”
Claire (stepping forward suddenly, raising her voice): “I don’t know about cosmic critiques, but you both sound like siblings squabbling over the same slice of pie.”
Both gods freeze mid-argument and turn to look at her, surprised.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Claire’s Story
Claire (calmly, addressing Coincidence and Sable): “You know, this reminds me of my parents. They’d fight like this all the time. Big, loud arguments about nothing and everything. Who left the cap off the toothpaste. Whether we should go camping or stay at a hotel.”
Coincidence (crossing his arms): “I fail to see how this relates to us.”
Sable (tilting his head): “Let her finish. I’m curious where this is going.”
Claire (shrugging, undeterred): “The thing is, I used to think they hated each other. All that yelling, the eye-rolling, the constant back-and-forth. It drove me nuts as a kid. But one day, my mom said something that stuck with me. She said, ‘The arguments are proof we care enough to disagree.’”
Elliot (raising an eyebrow): “And that wasn’t just a way to justify yelling about toothpaste?”
Claire shoots him a playful glare before continuing.
Claire: “Maybe. But it made sense to me. When you stop arguing, you stop trying. The fights, the debates—they’re proof you’re still in it together. You’re still showing up.”
Coincidence (pausing, rubbing his chin): “Huh. That’s... surprisingly insightful.”
Sable (smirking): “And ironic, considering she’s talking about us.”
The Sprawling Narrative
Claire (leaning casually against a wall): “Take my parents’ anniversary dinner. They spent the whole night bickering over the wine list. The waiter thought they were about to break up. But by the end of the meal, they were laughing about how ridiculous it all was. They even tipped the waiter double for putting up with them. And you know what my dad said when we got home?”
Elliot (playing along): “What?”
Claire (grinning): “‘It’s the arguments that keep us sharp. She’d get bored if I agreed with her all the time.’”
Coincidence (nodding slowly): “There’s some truth to that.”
Sable (raising an eyebrow): “And yet, you still accuse me of meddling.”
Coincidence (grinning, finally relaxing): “Because you do meddle. But maybe that’s why you’re still here. You keep me on my toes.”
Claire (clapping her hands): “Exactly! You don’t argue with someone unless they matter to you. The fights are part of the connection. A sign you’re still invested.”
Elliot (dryly): “So you’re saying these two are basically an old married couple?”
Sable (deadpan): “I refuse to dignify that with a response.”
Coincidence (smirking): “I don’t. But we’re definitely not married.”
The Closing Note
As the gods settle into an oddly companionable silence, Claire looks at Elliot, her expression thoughtful.
Claire (quietly): “You know, maybe it’s the arguments that keep all of us sharp. Keep us... connected. Even when it feels messy.”
Elliot (eyeing her warily): “Please don’t start implying there’s some grand cosmic lesson in all this.”
Claire (grinning): “Oh, there totally is. But I’ll let you figure it out.”
As they turn to leave, Coincidence calls after them.
Coincidence: “Next time, bring popcorn. Our debates are better with snacks.”
Sable (mockingly): “Or earplugs.”
[End Scene]
[retcon:1]