let me tell you about the time i met god in an alleyway, or maybe she was settled between cracks in the pavement or sitting on the tenth floor of the parking garage or at the floating at the surface of the lake. and i ask her, after we rot, where will we go? she tells me we hadn't even taken root yet, i don't need to worry about decay, we will be just fine, it's a good life, and to share it with the girl sitting next to me for a moment. so now we're in the car and the billboard on the side of the highway tells me that there is a god and i laughed at the thought of hell. fiery pits, nine circles of flames, how do you punish a pyromaniac in a place where everything burns? i want to tell you about the time i killed god. you will tell me god and the devil killed each other. you will tell me god isn't finished with me yet. you will tell me we'll see each other in heaven. i will tell you that i don't believe in any of it, i was lying, i never met god and i never killed god. the billboard was figment of my wildly optimistic imagination. you swear we pass it again on the way home. i don't see it.