Reggie Mills lives in Toronto, Canada where he spends his time eating granola. Elsewhere, his fiction has appeared in Buffalo Almanack, The Impressment Gang, and Print-Oriented Bastards, among other journals.

A Flash Fiction

By Reggie Mills

 

She says this is her choice. She says that of all things she’s got Free Will. And there’s nothing I can do but agree with that. She makes her choices and I make mine.

“How could you do something like that,” she said. “How could you do that to me.”

I used to think that God has his Plan, that whatever happens is what God intended. Leibniz thought that God knew all truths, necessary and contingent. There are necessary truths we can know are true, and contingent truths we can’t figure out ’til they happen. But for God all contingent truths, no matter they happened yet or not, are known. Everything that happens lines up with the Plan. Contingent truths don’t matter we figured them or not, they can’t go no other way in God’s eyes. This is what Leibniz thought.

“I just wish you could forgive me,” I said.

But she don’t see it like Leibniz. She says God gave people Free Will and sometimes people use this to go against God’s Plan.

“Except who’s to say when your Will meets the Plan and when it don’t,” I said. “I don’t know what’s God’s Plan and what’s not.”

I made a choice of my own Free Will and let it happen and God knows I feel the regret in my bones. But making the choice for me isn’t the same as making the choice for her. I can’t see things through her eyes and making the decision for me ain’t like what it’d be for her.

“I made the mistake,” I said to her. “Let me have the chance to learn from it.”

It’s happened and there’s nothing to be done to change it no more. But she just don’t see that. All she see is our Wills disjointed.