"It all revolved around telling people stories,"
He muttered, leaning large elbows on the table.
"That was the gag, the Great American Novel,
The war epics, the beast fables, the wonder tales.
If I didn't exist, you would have made me up.
Once you made me up, I existed, jamais vu,
And it was as if you never had to invent me.
Stories never lied. They never usurped the throne
Of an actual universe. They created,
Get it?" Rain pittered nervously drumming fingers
On the top of the table. The roof had vanished,
And we were somewhere else again, me and the God.