"I'm wondering about the existence of God," she said.
"Why?" he said.
"Because I want to know."
"Oh," he said. "Well, you'll never know."
"I may," she said.
"You may when you're dead," he said.
"I may know before that."
"I doubt it," he said and took a sip of whiskey.
"You're afraid," she said.
"Of what?"
"Of most things. Like most people," she said.
"I used to be afraid," he said. "I'm not anymore."
"You're not afraid of anything?"
He shrugged.
She looked at him. He had one brown eye and one blue eye. It used to disturb her. Now she was used to it.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"Fear is weakness," he said finally.
"Don't you want to know?" she asked.
"About what?"
"About God."
He shrugged.
"Not really," he said. "I don't really care."
She looked at him. His blue eye sparkled. His brown eye looked dull.
"We'll find out soon enough," he said.
"Soon enough," she said. "Soon enough."
2 comments:
You are prolific Mr. Eglick, the Jaywalker. Some say it's a fine line between genius and insanity. With this last post, you must ask yourself: have you crossed the line? And if you have, are you a metaphysical jaywalker?
I thought God was already Dead?
Thus Spake Zarathustra
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