Seeing him linenclad togaclothed she approached him asking advice. He raised a hand before she could speak, “oft I am mistaken for some cultic safronic guru or other” he said; “don’t call me ‘father’, ‘pastor’ or ‘doctor’ yet do proceed”

“My boyfriend and I have different faiths” said she.

“Ah, I see. But do you have faith in his faith as a faith meant to be?”

“By which you mean– what.”

“By which I mean did his faith bring the Fate that meant your destiny?”

“I guess so. But so did mine!”

“Sublime! Then all you need do is show him the extent your faiths conjoined Fate at the point of Love. For what the each of you has said, spoken, or done is as much the result of beliefs as anything else; thus, all one is or was must be included in love.”

“That sir is wise advice. Where are from? Your name?”

“Socratus please.”


“Since you ask, I come from the same place you do, some sort of Origin of all things before attraction, repulsion, magnetic bipolar of Love and Strife came about, just how is as yet still Unknown by all who together comprise a grand One at the starting block.”

“I do not sport” she then nervously said while yanking her bag from the rack above her head “but thanks a lot.”

The old man stayed seated then left last, luggageless, saying something at the door to the attendant how the first will be last, (“in accordance with ancient carpentry’s cordwood restacking procedure, where the last board stacked on top becomes first removed to the new pile next and its opposite too, owing to the er…inscrutability of the Divine Will!…”).

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