An Excerpt:

[A boy and a girl sitting in his room. It's small, so they're on the bed. He's lying down on his side facing her and she's propped up against the wall. They're not touching. He's staring intently at her and she's staring off into the distance. She looks like she's been crying.]

Emily: I wonder when it stops hurting?

Jared: [uncomfortable] well, he's in a better place now ...

[they're both silent for a few moments]

Emily: Did you ever read Brave New World, by Huxley?

Jared: Uh, I think I did, in High School.

Emily: Well, you remember that part in the novel where there's this girl and she's making little space worker babies in test tubes.

Jared: Not really

Emily: Well, she is. She's making these little space worker babies and innoculating them against this space sickness and she get's distracted and then can't remember if she's put the solution into this one test tube or not. [keeps talking over Jared]

Jared: okaaaay

Emily: and so she gives it a double dose and moves on and forgets about it, but the book fastforwards a few years to where this space guy falls dead suddenly, because of the double dose.

Jared: [confused] That's sad i guess, i don't really understand ...

Emily: [upset] Well, how do you know that's not what your god is like!? Instead of this all powerful being, what if he's this halfway competent technician who couldn't give a fuck about the animals he's creating and is distracted all day by thoughts of getting laid and how good the beer after work is going to taste?

Jared: uhhh

Emily: [crying] i mean look at how fucked up everyone and the world is, doesn't that make more sense?

[Jared moves over to her and puts him arm around her. He looks uncomfortable and she doesn't seem to notice]

Jared: [decisively, after a pause] I think you should believe in God.

Emily: [confused] What? What does that have to do with anything?

Jared: Well, I know you're on the fence about God, whether he exists or not or whether he's smart or not or cares and everything. But if you believe in God, like really, then you'll always have someone to blame.

{To be continued ......}