“Um, are you sure you’re God? You’re a lot shorter than I expected,” I glance over at the 9-year-old girl in the unicorn t-shirt sitting across from me. She slurps some strawberry milk and gestures for me to drink my coffee. I take a sip and try to swallow my disbelief.

“People call me lots of names,” she starts to count her stubby fingers, “Creator, Supreme Being, Deity, Idol. If you like the word God best, then yes, I’m God.”

I set down my coffee and sigh. “Look, I’ve always wanted the secrets to the universe. I’ve looked up to the idea of you for as long as I can remember and spent half my life savings just to have coffee with you. So if you’re truly God, you better give me some answers or I’m getting out of here.”

She giggles. “Do you think life is an egg? You can’t just crack it open and expect to find its inner meaning.”

“So what, am I supposed to spend another four years in philosophy classes?” I grit my teeth. “Because trust me, I’ve thought about life’s meaning. A lot. And even though I worry about it constantly, I’ve gotten nowhere. Isn’t God supposed to provide some magical solve-all?”

“Imagine what the world would be like if fixed every problem. If every time you had an issue, it was suddenly resolved. If instead of learning, you were stagnant,” God finishes the last of her strawberry drink, leaving a faint pink milk mustache above her lips. “I’m not a solve-all. That would defeat any meaning to begin with.”

“So life’s big secret is agony?” I shake my head. “There’s no way. You mean to tell me humans are designed to constantly suffer?”

“Humans are designed to grow,” God leans forward, “But that means growing pains. The things you go through aren’t meant to make you suffer. It’s meant to make you stronger.”

“Then I must be a bodybuilder by now,” I chuckle. “Speaking of growing, why do you look so young?”

“Just as you must grow, I must not.”

I scoff. “You speak in riddles. I’m going to have to grab an interpreter when I get home.”

God offers me a sad smile. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“Why?”

She pauses, and the clinking of coffee mugs fills the air. She’s silent for a moment more, and I wonder if it’s possible that I stumped a supposedly Almighty Being. Finally, she claps her hands and the world around us melts into emptiness. I whirl my head around, God and I drowning in a never-ending sea of white.

I try to stop myself from panicking. “Um, what just happened? Where are we?”

“Where you’ve been this whole time,” God smiles. “Welcome to the afterlife.”