God Doesn't Work on Sunday

A madman came to pick me up, bringing cake and blood. He smiled and kissed me, and the future would not allow me to live. I hugged him tightly and danced before death. The weak only cry silently, while the lover has been cold for a long time. Some people are watching indifferently, while others are waiting for death in despair. Fate keeps reminding me that I will not be alive in the future. God cannot hear prayer, He does not know what compassion is. Angels passed away and demons climbed to the surface. The madman keeps saying that the world will be beautiful. There is no need to be noble on Sunday, it is the worst day. There is no need to kill tomorrow, this is the best time. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.