I went out for a walk to a nearby park. The air was still cool but the clear Sun was shining boldly. The Spring got her foot firmly in the door. 

I walked slowly. My hips hurt for some reason. I was looking for a park bench, fully in the Sun, to sit on to warm up. Finally I got to one that was empty. I sat down, stretched and with halfclosed eyes  enjoyed the warmth of the Sun's rays.

An old man came up to me. And asked:
“Do you speak English?”

I cast a quick glance. He was about 70 and looked a bit frail. The sun seemed to be bothering him. He had a worn down hat and thick dark glasses. On his hip there was a little pouch with a metal zipper. He looked like an elderly tourist.
“Sure.” I responded.

I noticed that he started pulling out a small paper card from his pouch. There was something about God on it. I immediately realized what was just happening.
“Do you believe in God?”
“Oh. I’m sorry I’m not interested in anything about that.”

The conversation went the usual way at some point arriving at:
“What will you do when the Judgment comes?”
“Judgement?” I started to get annoyed. “Has no one told you? The Judgment came two thousand years ago and we all failed. We literally killed the son of God. Do you think that’s something you can get away with? Where do you think you live? This is literal Hell. Look at you. You’ve spent your entire life inside it.”

Fear ran through his face.

“Every day since your earliest memory was a part of your punishment. Look at me, sitting on the bench, enjoying the Sun while you are shuffling around and trying to talk to people. That's because I was pretty far from the cross when it happened. By the looks of you, you must have been at least on the same landmass as the dying God.”

He took a step back. His eyes were staring at me intensely while his brain was attempting its last ditch effort to keep what he knew suppressed. Of course he knew. Everybody knew. Almost everybody was trying to forget. Some succeeded for whole decades. I didn’t care because I accepted it a long time ago. He was at fault here, coming to me with his bullshit.

He started muttering something about the Bible and shuffled away to bother someone else. I guess the last ditch effort went well.

“Good luck! Have a nice day!” I said sincerely, without a shadow of guilt.

He must have been an American. It was them who had the dumbest idea to incorporate the Judgment itself into their coping strategies about it. It’s way better to do everything else instead, if you ask me.

I sat for a short while occasionally watching the old, unhappy man trying to interact with other people around. Then I got up and walked away because I gradually developed a healthy appetite for some strawberry ice cream.