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”Where were
we? Ah... the meaning of life.”
Sighs.
“We are
always there, about the meaning of life. And as
always, you strayed from the topic.”
“Now, that’s not fair. Sometimes it’s you who is
sidetracking.”
Smiles, in silent admission. Takes a sip of the warm coffee, enjoys the
aroma.
”But OK, where exactly, about the meaning of life,
were we when I strayed from the topic?”
“I don’t quite remember. It’s been a while.”
“But… it was two weeks ago, like always, wasn’t it?”
”No, it wasn’t. The last time you couldn’t make it. You
had to take your son to some… football game, or whatever.”
Makes a face in acquiescence, grabs the spoon and
stirs the coffee, to mix the added sugar.
“You sound a bit accusing. You know I have to take
care of my kids.”
“Yes, but it’s strange that you must be the one driving
every time.” Rolls eyes. “But maybe that is the meaning of life to you, driving
to football games?”
”Being with my kids is definitely a part of the
meaning of life to me. Maybe that’s hard for you to…”
Strikes a match, lights a cigarette. Blows out smoke.
Coughs, rather forced.
”You shouldn’t smoke so much.”
”You know that’s the reason we sit outside, even
during winter, to allow me to smoke.”
“Maybe that’s the meaning of life to you, smoking?”
“Oh, not again!” An arrow of smoke shoots past the
head. “Surely that was where you sidetracked, as you always do. That I smoke
too much.”
”I’m saying it because I care about you!”
Raises the chin slightly, in defiance.
“I enjoy smoking, and what meaning is there in my life
if I can’t do things I enjoy? And besides, what does it matter? I don’t have
any kids and I won’t be having any either.”
An expression of suffering, gazes at the coffee pot.
Smiles again, smoothing things over.
“Sitting here with you is also a part of the meaning
of my life.”
“For me too.
A very important part. That’s why I...” Cuts short, tosses
the head as if to scatter disturbing thoughts in there. “I don’t know how I would cope
without these moments. They…
you… are like new oxygen feeding my brain.”
”Oxygen? Not
smoke?” Head slanting. ”I’m sorry. I appreciate that you care...
somehow.”
“Now I recall where we were! The chicken or the egg,
which one came first?”
Waits, then:
”And you said the egg, and then I wanted to know why
you believe that, but then...”
“Then I lit a cigarette and you started nagging about
that. It’s the shape, naturally.”
Frowns, pours some more coffee, adds sugar, stirs.
“The shape? How do you mean?”
“Well, think for yourself. Out there, somewhere in the
Nothingness… the original shape was floating. I can’t see the shape of a
chicken out there in the Nothingness, it would be completely weird. But an egg,
no problem.”
A faint smile.
”Then all that remains is the question of which came
first, the egg or the sperm.”
