First Day in Hell.

Dear Satan, I thought you would meet me at the door.. I had the impression that I would meet a grand entrance to hell with the burning flames and whatnot. I walked for hours in darkness until I found myself here, except I don’t know where “here” is. If I’d have to guess, I think I’m in St. Louis. I’ve passed this familiar arch three times now and I’m starting to believe this city is infinite. When I’m near the edge of the city, I seem to respawn on the other side. The traffic here is horrible. How many times will I get hit by angry drivers and not die? I’m getting tired and I think I’m going to one of the dives downtown and grab some food.

Second day in Hell.

What the hell Satan? Sorry.. is that derogatory? I walked out of a restaurant and found myself in my parents old basement. My old twin mattress sitting under my tapestry and Christmas lights makes me cringe. This was such a disgraceful setup. Is that why I’m in Hell? Anyway, I can hear my dad’s obnoxious dog run across the entire floor plan of the house. Between pauses, I hear my mom screaming and my dad throwing kitchenware. Satan, I think living in my parents basement was hell enough.

Third day in Hell.

Satan, am I ever going to meet you? I’m starting to wonder what it would be like being put on a spit over the flames of hell. The stairway door opened and I walked into my college math seminar. You must be a comedian, Satan, because this was on my list of reasons for offing myself. The lecture has been going on for hours and it seems there is no end to this nonsense. I’m starting to daydream about burning in the depths of hell.

Satan, are you there?