Fiction

The writer was having breakfast at a waffle house when a young man approached.

“Hi, I’m sorry. Are you Jeff Wilkowsky.”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Oh my God. Sorry to bother you, I was just sitting over there with my friends and I… I recognized you from the back cover of the book. I don’t mean to disturb your morning, but wow. Can I have your autograph?”

“Sure,” said the writer.

“You’re Jeff Wilkowsky?” asked the woman in the next booth.

The writer nodded.

“You know, you shouldn’t write those things about Lord Jesus. You cannot put your own thoughts into Jesus’s mouth. He is a historical figure and his opinions are well-documented. You cannot deny that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” started the writer, but the young man interrupted.

“Hey, lady, the Bible is fanfiction about God and Jesus is a cartoonish superhero. You’re a typical fundamentalist Christian nut job. You people are the reason everybody makes fun of Americans. I’m gonna tweet about you, lady.”

He turned to the writer.

“Thanks for the autograph and sorry for the interruption,” and then he kind of stormed off.

The writer looked at the lady, she seemed angry and hurt.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

Leave a Reply