“Last year we were suddenly awakened, we being everyone in L.A., by the house not standing still. I saw the tv fall off the table and dance across the floor like a marionette. There was nothing for it but to wait. I had already explored fully the ways you can suffer thinking about earthquakes. It was one of the lessons of childhood. “Now do you believe in God?” a friend telephoned immediately to ask. The sky was flashing like lightning and the rumble had barely subsided, but I’ll be damned before I’ll believe in God just because of earthquakes, I’ve seen where that can lead. “No,” I said and hung up. An aftershock rolled under the house again and the man I was with trembled in terror. He had never thought about earthquakes and had only been in L.A. for a few months. “Stand under the doorframe,” I told him because he was grabbing his clothes and would probably run outside in a minute. The worst thing you can do is run outside, phone wires being what they are. The earth rocked beneath us like a cradle and if God wants me to believe in him, I’ll do it, but only for the Pacific Ocean and sunsets. Earthquakes are only earthquakes, but a good sunset . . .”—Eve Babitz