Toward the end of the 1962 spring semester, a philosophy professor at the University of Michigan hosted an intimate dinner party at home, inviting a philosopher colleague, a visiting theologian from the University of Chicago School of Divinity, and a local Catholic priest. The intended topic of discussion for the evening was the inscrutability of God. At the last moment, the host also invited God, who, his original plans having fallen through, accepted. Throughout dinner, the two philosophers and the theologian, debating the inscrutable nature of the Almighty, attempted to draw the Ancient of Days into conversation, to open up, take one side or the other. God remained mostly silent, however, answering as briefly as possible without being rude and preferring, on the whole, to talk about how unseasonably pleasant April had been and to compliment the professor’s wife on the quality of the meal and magnificence of her many houseplants. By the time they retired to the living room for after-dinner drinks, only the priest continued to engage God in conversation, but as he mentioned to the professor some weeks later, he could no longer remember what they had discussed.
Born, raised, and still living in the Midwest, Colin Punt does most of his writing as a practicing city planner, envisioning the future of cities. When he’s not planning the future urban form, he enjoys reading books, riding bikes, and sailing boats. His work has appeared in Steam Ticket, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Rejection Letters, and Rural Fiction Magazine.