"Did you know that something on the order of every seven years the average human replaces ninety eight percent of their molecules with new molecules? That's like every handful of years, you're ninety eight percent different than you were before, yet you hardly notice a real change at all. I guess you kind of realize that you're growing older, and your relationships change, but you feel like you're the same person, for the most part."

"Really? Ninety eight percent?" I asked, wondering if she was right.

"Look it up!" she replied. "Anyway, that's not the point I'm making, it's just an idea, an example. The point I am trying to make to you is that you never notice a change, but a change has been made, gradually. And maybe that's what happens when you die, you just sort of make a smooth transition to the next level, a level that's probably only about one or two percent of the way things are as we know it."

"That's a good point, but I think you're reaching for something that isn't really there."

"Maybe, but it makes sense to me." She crossed her arms on top of the covers. "I mean, you don't have to have god for that, do you?"