"You can't be the devil," she said, waiting for the light to change.
"Why not?" he asked, frowning at her.
"You're wearing a torn Harley t-shirt, you have tattoo's all over and..."
"And? What did you expect me to be wearing, a polo shirt and a nice pair of slacks?"
"Good point. But anyone can say they're the Devil. Today, people are doing all kinds of evil things, like running for president."
He snickered. "Good point. But why do you think the Devil is evil?"
"Don't you torture people?"
"Of course not. People torture themselves, just like they did when they were alive, but without a day off."
"Interesting," she said, missing the light.
"Boring, actually. All of them reliving things they thought were real, but weren't. They can leave anytime they like, if they just let themselves open the gate to the cell in their minds."
"Are you the ultimate bad boy?" she asked, looking him up and down.
"I hate to brag."
"I bet."
"I mean, I am the Devil, after all."
"You sound more like a warden."
"I'm more of a scary figurehead. The guards do all the work."
She nodded. "Are you a fallen angel?"
"No. Are you?"
"I doubt it," she said. "But I guess I can't know for sure."
"You do know there is no heaven or hell, right? No Devil."
"What do you mean?"
"People's beliefs make those things happen to themselves. They make life after death real, individually."
"So I will be brought to a place where all the animals I ever loved will be waiting for me and crows and ravens will take me to the little white cottage on the lake that's filled with books and music and art supplies, cool pizza oven and a never ending supply of chocolate?"
"Yes," he laughed.
"Maybe I should die right now."
"No. You still have a lot to do. Like fall in love with me, have my children, and learn how to rebuild Harley's."
"I see."
"Good, then let's get started," he said, pulling her toward him.
"Hey!" she said. "I don't even know you."
"Everyone knows me. I'm the Devil, which, as I said isn't real, it's actually just a name that got a bad rap, like snakes did."
"Why does earth suck?"
"Because humans are on it," he said.
"Good answer."
"It's the only answer."
"Why do we suck?" she asked.
"Because you are greedy, selfish and power hungry. Someone tinkered with your DNA to make you violent as well, so altogether you're a nightmare of a species. Having said that, it's not all your fault."
"Who tinkered?"
"Aliens."
"Right. Aliens."
"Wanna see my wings?"
"Really? You just met me and you're already going to show me your wings?"
"Well, sure. You're going to be the mother of my kids, so why not."
"Okay, first of all, I don't want kids. They are sticky and suck the life out of everyone around them and then you die, poor, unfulfilled and exhausted and they're too busy to cremate you, so you have to light your own match. Second, okay show me your wings."
He did.
"I didn't know anything could be that beautiful."
"You get used to them," he said.
"How long does it take?"
He shrugged. "I don't know."
"Some people think the bones below their shoulders were where their wings once were."
"They might be right."
"Really?"
"Sure," he said. "About not wanting kids."
"What about that?"
"Not even one?"
"Why?"
"I think I'd be a good father."
"Did you like your father?"
"I didn't have a father. Not everyone is born, you know. Some of us just are."
"God's not your father?"
"No way. He's just another guy with an ego problem. He named himself god and everyone went along with it to shut him up."
"Then how are you an angel?"
"I'm just one more life form from somewhere else. You call my species angels. That's not what we are, it's what we are to you. That's what YOU call us."
"What do you call yourselves?"
He made a weird noise, then smiled.
"What was that?"
"That's what we call ourselves. We have our own language, you know. I'm only showing you these wings because you expect me to have them, not because they're mine."
"So you don't have wings?"
"Why would I have wings?" he asked.
"And you're not an angel."
"Only to you."
"What about being the Devil?"
"There is no Devil."
"So you made everything up."
"No, I just went along with all the things YOU believe and expect to see."
"I hate that that makes some kind of sense. But why made you think I'd want to see the Devil?"
"No idea, not really."
"I see," she said.
"It's probably hard to know that nothing you believe is real, just junk someone made up and passed down as truth. Sadly, you all believe what was never true."
"What is true?" she asked.
"There is no truth."
"How is that possible?"
"A better question would be, how would truth be possible?"
"I don't get it," she sighed.
"Every single living thing across this universe, believes something different. Every single living thing has his, her, or its own truth. That's all that exists. Nothing is real. Nothing is true. Angels only exist if you think they exist, but they aren't real. I can be one, but I'm not one. Right now, you're pretending to be a beautiful human woman, but that's not what you really are. It's just what you believe yourself to be because humans are kept in the dark about pretty much everything."
"Me? Beautiful?"
"Yes. Of course. What did you think you were?" he asked. "Because what you think you are is what others see."
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right?"
"Yes, because everyone who looks at you, sees something different."
"I think you're really hot," she said, biting her bottom lip.
"Oh, excellent," he said, grabbing and kissing her. "I think you're hot too, but you feel cool to the touch."
"Hot means you look good."
"Oh, then you're burning up."
She giggled. and hugged him. "Can you take me to where you're from?"
"You'd die, so not a good idea."
"Why would I die?"
"Different atmosphere, gravity, lots of reasons."
"You seem human," she said.
"I can be anything, but my great grandmother was a human woman."
"No kidding."
"No. No kidding. So that gives me an edge when I'm here."
"I bet you can't stay here forever, can you."
"No," he said. "I can't. I can only survive in this place for awhile."
"Well, then, let's go to my place. I have mac and cheese and other things you might like."
"Maybe we can have a really long distance relationship," he said, throwing his arm over her shoulders, as they started walking.
"We can talk about that later," she said, putting her arm around his waist. "What should I call you, besides Devil?"
"Anything you like."
"How about Joey. I always liked that name."
"Joey it is. I had an Xvbtie named Hugo."
"What's an Xybtie?"
"It's kind of like a cross between one of your white bears and a cat, only bigger."
"Sounds dangerous."
"They're very gentle and sweet."
"Do you have any pictures?" she asked, hoping he did.
"No. But I'll try and bring some next time."
"You'll come back?"
"Yes. I'll want to see you again. By the way, where were you going when we met on the corner?"
"Bookstore."
"Can we go there later?"
She smiled. "Let's see how the night goes."
"Mac and cheese?" he asked.
"Sure," she laughed. Mac and cheese. Why not."
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