After much haggling and some give and take (the give mainly—actually, I'd go so far as to say exclusively—provided by God), He finally relented: "All right, all right," He said (twice—so four "all rights" in toto), all right (a fifth) we could leave if we wanted, if we really wanted. He sighed as he said this.
This is how:
Breathe out.
For a full comfortable and thoughtless (as in no thoughts at all, not even a micro-one) sixty seconds do not breath in.
Then do.
Then, slowly expel this new air while intending, wholeheartedly, to let go.
If done right, you will hear a soft, well-oiled click (that's the invisible lock) and perhaps some creaking (old, rarely used, not well-oiled hinges) and the door will swing open and you can step through and out.
"What happens to the body?" we asked.
"It'll stay where it is. We'll set up cleaning crews to collect and dispose."
"Deal," we said.
How did it come to this? ...