Skiing With God

Fiction & Literature, Humorous
Cover of the book Skiing With God by Jill Murphy Long, Jill Murphy Long
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Author: Jill Murphy Long ISBN: 9781452497921
Publisher: Jill Murphy Long Publication: April 27, 2011
Imprint: Smashwords Edition Language: English
Author: Jill Murphy Long
ISBN: 9781452497921
Publisher: Jill Murphy Long
Publication: April 27, 2011
Imprint: Smashwords Edition
Language: English

In Heaven, there are 8,143 ski resorts.

Ski enthusiast Joy Fleur heard rumors that Heaven offered every type of skiing ever dreamed of by its devotees: incredibly vertical terrain, VW-sized moguls, and open aspen glades. Nirvana also delivered a personal preference of weather choice every day—like brilliant blue skies, springtime sunshine, or “champagne powder”. Joy now knows these rumors to be true because she has skied all of these wintry playgrounds with God.
Skiing with God is her new day job because He had lost His enthusiasm for this fantastic sport that He created. He couldn’t find His passion on Silver Bullet Hill, at Mogul Haven, or in Nature’s Park—all perfect places for God to remember why He used to love to carve, bump, jump, and jib. However, His pre-occupation with the storms of pollution and hatred down on Earth made God a bit peevish, tired, and forgetful of what ‘pure joy’ could be—even though He also created this emotion.

Depending upon His (or Her mood) in the morning, His Holiness changed personas and ages to try and find the fun in skiing, once again. For example on the very first day, God appeared as the leader of the cavalry, dressed as a character as many skiers do at Opening Day Resort. It’s tradition.

Another time, God wore all pink, a kind of defiant, bubble gum color for a Grandma or “Glamma” as She told Joy the mature, wise women on Earth liked to be called now. Joy spent the day with a nine-year-old boy (a.k.a. God) who just wanted to run the icy bobsled track called the Death Trough and then skied with a teenaged girl that called Herself the “Hucker Queen” due to Her inclination to jump off two-hundred-fifty foot cliffs.

Part Zen, part Catholic, part fantasy, and part true, Skiing With God will keep this sport and its memories alive forever—especially when winter is months away or where snow is thousands of miles down the road.

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In Heaven, there are 8,143 ski resorts.

Ski enthusiast Joy Fleur heard rumors that Heaven offered every type of skiing ever dreamed of by its devotees: incredibly vertical terrain, VW-sized moguls, and open aspen glades. Nirvana also delivered a personal preference of weather choice every day—like brilliant blue skies, springtime sunshine, or “champagne powder”. Joy now knows these rumors to be true because she has skied all of these wintry playgrounds with God.
Skiing with God is her new day job because He had lost His enthusiasm for this fantastic sport that He created. He couldn’t find His passion on Silver Bullet Hill, at Mogul Haven, or in Nature’s Park—all perfect places for God to remember why He used to love to carve, bump, jump, and jib. However, His pre-occupation with the storms of pollution and hatred down on Earth made God a bit peevish, tired, and forgetful of what ‘pure joy’ could be—even though He also created this emotion.

Depending upon His (or Her mood) in the morning, His Holiness changed personas and ages to try and find the fun in skiing, once again. For example on the very first day, God appeared as the leader of the cavalry, dressed as a character as many skiers do at Opening Day Resort. It’s tradition.

Another time, God wore all pink, a kind of defiant, bubble gum color for a Grandma or “Glamma” as She told Joy the mature, wise women on Earth liked to be called now. Joy spent the day with a nine-year-old boy (a.k.a. God) who just wanted to run the icy bobsled track called the Death Trough and then skied with a teenaged girl that called Herself the “Hucker Queen” due to Her inclination to jump off two-hundred-fifty foot cliffs.

Part Zen, part Catholic, part fantasy, and part true, Skiing With God will keep this sport and its memories alive forever—especially when winter is months away or where snow is thousands of miles down the road.

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