I kept my voice low so that even God needed to bend his ear. My lament drifted up to him.
"What more?" asked God in his ever so old manly gentle yet senile way.
My response was to simply turn onto my back and slash his face with my sword.
God recoiled quickly with shock, the befuddled look of amusement melting quickly.
"Do you imagine that you wound me?", he chuckled in sarcasm, "you would have them worship many, not one?"
Cast hard across the universe and crashing upon the ground, the air torn from my lungs, i will not pray.
Who's to say they know God's voice?
