Prologue: Lesson One I do not lie to God. God, in this sense, can be whatever you want it to be--­but the one thing God cannot be is a liar or a believer of lies or a perpetuator of lies or an eater of lies or a baker of lies or a bartender of lies. God / the universe can shake up a cocktail and serve it to you, but if you need lies to survive, you must tell your own stories / add your own garnish. God will watch you from behind the bar. God will nod and smile as you eat the cherry. God knows you are imperfect.You do not. God forgives you.

You do not. This is why you lie to God. And so, Lesson One is easy. I am imperfect. I forgive myself. I do not lie to God. I first learned this lesson when I was four years old. I have not strayed.

I am humble in the light of the universe--­I have earned my place. My father lies to God. All the time. Today he said, "God knows, we tried all we could before she went into the System." She is my mother. We is him. Tried means he didn't like her the way she was. The System is how Mother travels now, contained in a tidy capsule.

God knows. My father should not be the keeper of God's words. He is a liar and a thief. God knows. My father cannot think God's thoughts. He is a traitor and a brute. God knows. God shouldn't even be allowed in his mouth--­my father is a killer.

He made my mother into a fast-­moving message. Fed her into a tube.The message reads, "I am an example of what happens when a coward lies to God." My father. God knows. Our teacher. Our captor. Our hero.

His Lesson One is: The World and Its Seven Continents: Overview. My Lesson One is: DO NOT LIE TO GOD.