In the off-chance that my plane crashes, please take note and tell her that I have transcended into the holy land and not to worry about the well-being of my soul. It is not being tortured. That is, if this piece of modern technology can transcend water--if we end up crashing in water, in any case.
Regardless, she will be relieved and stop hankering me or about me. If she asks how you know, tell her that her god has spoken and whisked me away on clouds pulled by the heavenly spirits.
And if she asks, again, how you know, tell her of the scent of jasmine that floated through the air before the crash, how we all saw a bright light, and how god had chosen me as a messenger, to report to him all I've witnessed, and to tell him of my experiences in the world that he had created in seven lazy days.
She'll probably get angry at you for that comment, so just tell her that's what god told me to tell you to tell her, because, let's be real, ain't no one creating a world in seven days could create such a shit world.
She'll argue, but just sit and listen. No need to say anything when she becomes of that state of mind. When she's finished, smile with sympathy, pat her on her shoulder, tell her that you must take your leave now to spread the holy word of the holy book. She'll light up, tell you that he blesses you, and you'll be on your merry way with one hundred grand in your pocket.
What do you say?
No comments:
Post a Comment