Killing God

He works at a drive-in theatre
not a bad job
lots of movies.
Some tedious tasks,
he has to check every speaker in the field.
Turn up volume,
listen,
move to next post.
Turn up volume,
listen,
move to next post.
Turn up volume,
listen,
move to next post.
500 times.

Today the light is yellow, electric,
turbulent clouds roiling ominously.
He stops,
transfixed.
Staring at the half-brick in his hand.
Where the hell did that come from?
He looks around, bemused.
Five rows back at the edge of the field
is a small pile of rubble.

He smiles gently,
perhaps a little wickedly.
Of course.
In the middle of a field of metal posts,
an electric storm brewing.
If lightning strikes,
if there is a judgemental god,
he will meet that prick
armed with a half-brick.