While Jon is waiting still a virgin and feeling quite unloved, his universe cracked open a little and in came the blue-skinned lizard men to take him away. Right through the window and the walls they slid and covered his mouth with big blue knuckled hands so he couldn't stop them or cry out.
Why does this happen to people? he doesn't ask. He asks instead,
Why is this happening to me?
The scientific community is coming to believe that while the universe may or may not be filled with God's love, it is certainly jam-packed with infinitely small dimensions folded up in every corner of His space. The average person cannot walk, run, or fall through them. It is like trying to teach a circle to imagine a sphere.
If the average person living in three dimensions met someone who lived in only two, he could walk around his flat friend and view him from angles his friend would find literally unimaginable. Likewise, if he were to meet a man living in fully four dimensions, our average person's lungs, heart, brain and other “internal” organs would be perfectly visible, and possibly his average thoughts and feelings, too, even those that that he himself was unaware of.
Why are there so many tiny folded-up holes in God? No scientist to date has asked the question.
But so they took him from his room and through the crack where his fear melted away in the face of overpowering love. Love! It came at him like a swarm of stars descending from the sky. It came like a bear, to eat him up; like a bright blue light; like a smile breaking over his brain. Jon stayed smiling as they took his clothes and chained him up and touched every part of his body with their tools before he ejaculated for the first time and was promptly returned to his bed.
In the morning he woke and remember nothing of his time away, other than a secret wish to be tied and loved, and a reoccuring dream of reptiles.
The snake sheds his skin and rids itself of the Old Life. No more trolling the garden, no more temptation. It is time to be a new snake, in the New Life, which many people have predicted would be exactly the way it is right now. So the wires come and run electricity through his walls. The air fill up with signals. The snake looks at the world with new eyes and sees conscience form from the excess carbon, and participation bloom readily amongst the dry weeds. When Jon is thirty they meet. “I died a little bit each time, you know,” he says. The snake is sympathetic.
“We know,” he says.
“And it's going to happen again.”
“But why me? I just want to understand.”
But it is the wrong question.