You find your voice sounding assured, calm, strange to your ears. Well, you know, God was a writer. Gods ARE writers. Creation is the Word. Words are real.
Miracles are like love.
God loves man, but men suck dick. That's a miracle. Creation is real. He hits the arm of the couch with the palm of his hand to indicate its realness. He smiles at you and pulls a cigarette from behind his ear, where it was hidden by long black hair.