Stitch – Small God of Inexplicable Technical Glitches

[image description: A manic-looking bald man in a rust red shirt, black tie and diamond earring looks at the viewer with an open mouth, as if to say, ‘Ain’t I a stinker?’. In his left hand, the prongs of an (extension?) cord spark and glow. Text reads, “217, Stitch, Small God of Inexplicable Technical Glitches.”]

• • • • •

He has no church.  He has no congregation.  He has no followers nor faithful.  Even those who might seem most inclined to worship him—the bored, the destructive, the preschoolers—do not, for the glitches they cause are very explicable.  If you find your control panel covered in peanut butter when you have a toddler in the house, you can be pretty sure you know what happened.  The inexplicable, however, requires an absence of such easy explanation.

No.  He walks all but entirely unloved, and those who speak of him with any fondness speak in regards to fortuitous failures, ATMs dispensing extra funds and slot machines hitting unprogrammed jackpots.  The majority of his accomplishments are derided and degraded, unwanted by the people they impact.

Stitch doesn’t seem to care.

There are more than a few small gods who exist out of the collective belief that SOMEONE must be in charge of that thing nobody likes, and most of them are sorrowful figures, wandering through the world bereft of companionship, lonely and ashamed of their own existence.  Not Stitch.  He takes glee in his portfolio and his duties, and in the fact that he is a living contradiction.  If the glitch is inexplicable because of his presence, then the glitch is entirely explicable—Stitch did it.  No other answer can be asked or needed.

He is a bitter god.  He is a brutal god.  He is a limited god, but he is a deadly god: when the glitch is in your pacemaker or your automotive steering system, you may not survive your brush with him.  Stitch doesn’t seem to care about that, either.  He leaves a trail of destruction in his wake, and that has always been enough for him.

He’s not a very deep god.  But then, he doesn’t need to be.

• • • • •

Join Lee Moyer (Icon) and Seanan McGuire (Story) Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a guide to the many small deities who manage our modern world:





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