by Hadley Bradley

Adam looked up from his phone. In that instance, he knew he was going to die. The eighteen wheeler truck hauling logs from the plantation to the sawmill was charging towards him. He’d wondered over onto the wrong side of the road while checking his Tinder profile, swiping right on some cute brunettes photo. A girl who was definitely young enough to be his daughter.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He yelled as he dropped his mug of coffee trying to manoeuvre his black beamer out of harm’s way. The hot coffee burnt his manhood. Sweet justice for the way he’d abused the hundreds of women he’d conned into the sack over the years. Yanking the steering wheel to his left he tried to avoid the approaching truck. Too little too late. He was a gonna. Soon to be dead.

He’d never believed in God, avoiding Church like the plague after being caught smoking in the local graveyard as a kid. Now his death was imminent he guessed he was going to find out one way or another if the big cheese with the white beard really existed. In the last moments of his sad existence, he actually prayed there wasn’t a God only because he couldn’t face atoning for his sins.

Opening his eyes hurt, the room he was sitting in was completely white. Featureless. Silent. Odourless. Was he really dead?. He tried to move his arm. To his amazement it wasn’t broken, it seemed to function perfectly, how was this even possible? He grabbed his cock and balls on reflex “Thank fuck! still there.” he thought, how the hell had he survived that truck he puzzled, he was sure he’d just died on route forty three.

A tall slender female dressed completely in white suddenly appeared. With short-cropped hair and bright blue eyes, which expressed wisdom beyond her years. She tilted her head and considered Adam, a wry smile spreading across her face.

“Jeez, don’t say God is a woman!” Adam groaned to himself. Realising he was still holding his junk he quickly let go and coughed. He looked slightly embarrassed, like a little schoolboy caught with his hand in the sweetie jar.

“Hi Adam. A pleasure as usual. Have you got any questions before you go back?”

“How do you mean, go back? Am I really dead? What, you mean like reincarnation? Hang the fuck on, are you God?”

“Adam, so many questions. No, I’m not God. But I am your maker. You can call me Eve.”

“Eve!, are you yanking my chain? That’s a bit biblical, isn’t it? Me Adam, you Eve, come on seriously?”

“Adam, why so hostile? I am your maker, I’m not a God. God doesn’t really exist. Well not in the sense you understand. We have a short window of opportunity for you to ask any questions before you go back. Make the most of it.”

“Well yeah, okay. How many times have I gone back?”

“Lot’s, too many to count. I’ve been here at each of your passings and I’ll probably meet you a few more times in the future. Before my work is done.”

“Okay, wired. Not sure how to take that. Do I get to choose who or what I go back as?”

“No Adam, you don’t. You’ve been every person at every point in time throughout history already.”

“What? So you’re telling me I’ve been every man throughout history?”

“Yes and this time you’re going back as Chica da Silva a prostitute from the eighteenth century.”

“Hang on, does that mean I’ve also been every woman throughout history?”

Eve smirked and replied “Yes.”

Adam squirmed as the realisation hit him. He’d also been all the women that he’d ever had sex with. All the women he’d mistreated. Oh God, he’d also been his mother. This wasn’t heaven, this was the worst kind of hell.

After a long pause, he whispered “Eve, who are you, really?”

“Well Adam, I’m a final year science student from the University of Antari. A planet from a distant galaxy and you’re my final dissertation project. Which I must say has been quite entertaining. The central hypothesis being ’is the human race of Earth ready for integration with the galactic alliance’. You see Adam, you don’t really exist. You’re basically an avatar in my computer simulations, a programmed AI. Using my simulations I aim to predict all possible evolutions of Earth within a few weeks.”

Adam just stared at Eve aghast. “Glad you’re finding this entertaining. If it’s not real please don’t send me back. End this now.”

“Sorry Adam, no can do. My grades depend on this final project.”

“Fine!” sulked, Adam. “How many simulations have you run and how is the prediction looking for the human race?”

“Many Trillions.” Eve replied. “To be honest, it’s not looking promising. If you don’t kill yourselves by nuclear war, you pollute your world so much that you all die due to climate change.”

“Give me some hope Eve” Adam urged. “Send me back as someone who can change things, someone who can make a difference.”

“Sorry Adam. I’ll see you shortly. Your Roman soldier simulation is coming to an end. Computer! Reset and start simulation 3.14 trillion.”