Our God Satan
From Create Your Own Story
You open your eyes, sighing. You move to get up from your bed and walk into the kitchen, taking the remains of last night's steak out of the fridge and pouring a glass of wine. You drink the wine and eat the meat, needless to state.
Walking to the yard, you check the mailbox — a task you neglected yesterday — and see a letter stamped with a red star. What do they want now? you ask yourself as you flip through the bills and shopping catalogs. "Oh?" You discover a swimsuit magazine. You'll put that in a spot different from the rest. The bills you'll pay last minute; the letters from distant relatives you'll burn with the shopping catalogs. You'll keep the coupons, but the only thing you'll actually read is that one letter.
You open it, expecting something dramatic, important, and, most importantly, bad. Instead, it's a list of meeting times for your satanic cult. Cursing, you set it down and look at the calendar. It's a Sunday. You pray it's 10:30 — a good enough time to be late to the church and not go — but are instead insulted with a time of 9:17 A.M. Fuck, you hate sitting through church to gain intel for the cult on how many people are followers of Christ. And the potlucks. You hate them; cooking a random dish to please some hungry dickheads. You're grateful, but also slightly depressed, that the potluck's next week.
After getting dressed and walking out the door, you realize you have half an hour to kill. You think of what to do.
