You ever seen a baby being delivered...ugly is'nt it...writing a story is kind of like delivering a baby...the head..you see...is the hardest part to push out.. For a long time I had a theory in my head. What if we live in hell? What if all our theories and all our conjectures about the afterlife are wrong? We talk about meaning..we talk about purpose..what if there is no meaning..there is no purpose..This theory served as the springboard for a larger series of ideas... What if god had been defeated in the great war? What if lucifer had won?

Would the world be very different? Remember, the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was to convince the world he dosen't exist

My baby has now started being delivered....It starts below



She looked at him expectantly...as she always did... when they made love. As their sighs dissolved into the crimson caresses of the moonlight...she closed her eys and felt him on top of her...and the world shattered into a million particles of light ....floating around her....and when she opened her eyes again...she saw the kind of doible vision she always saw towards the end..it was him..but it was also all the wieght of the world..all the wars that had ever been fought..all the ugliness of destruction..and ..as she always did towards the end..she began to scream.right before her head exploded


She woke up with a gasp...and the dream ended...she was pushed back into reality with a dim realisation that she was leaving something behind...that somehow..the drea,m world was the real one...and this... her mudane daily dreary existence was the dream...