As they left the diner, one of them paused beneath the neon sign and said, “You know, if God exists, I suspect He has a strange relationship with unresolved dissonance.” The other adjusted his scarf. “And if God doesn’t exist,” he replied, “people will still argue over whether that saxophone solo was profound or self-indulgent.” They stood there for a moment in the cold, two mammals on a spinning rock trying to explain existence using pie, philosophy, and amplified vibrations. Then they walked in opposite directions, each carrying the unsettling possibility that the other might be right about something.