Our god created a flower so that we would seek it; he sent us off in hiding; he arranged all manner of elaborate ways to visit us; he sometimes turned us into animals. He controlled the rain. We could have anything we wanted, except our lives. He could take them away or change them at any minute. We could become springs, or goats, or castaways on an island. He would strike with a thunderbolt when someone did him wrong. No one struck him. He had a jealous wife. If the story were ever told again, we would take out the wife. Many of the flapping shredded souls in his wake were merely because of his wayward attentions. Then he changed, and took justice as a partner. As he held justice to others, so he was held, when capability permitted. His wife’s justice was neither reasonable nor consistent, but she could take pity on wrongs, and change them, if she noticed. We hid from our god most of the time.