Gev Sweeney: Stories & Stuff

  WHEN EVERYTHING WAS OVER but still stuck in the part of Bereshis where God begins to create the world, it was almost like coming out of a hurricane shelter, seeing ruins all around, and wondering whose home was left. Almost. There was the same uncertainty, the same fear of loss, the same unspoken "What happens now?" But instead of wondering whose home was left, you wondered who was left. You stood there thinking: Is that what Jesus thought when he walked out of the tomb? "Who's left? Who's still here?" Was he afraid to hear what the Apostles had to tell him? Did he dread walking along the streets, seeing who was sitting shiva? And you recited (to yourself) the great litany of things that those no longer here would never do: find their dream house; get married; buy that new dress; lease that new car; repair the plumbing; repaper the parlor; sign the divorce papers; read the book they always wanted to read; write the book they always wanted to read; play g