i have, for as long as i can remember, posed a question no one had been able to answer: "where do questions come from?"
then one day, after i was friendless no more, my friend asked, "where do you think your question came from?" and i, not too sure of my answer said, "me?"
and my friend nodded knowingly and said, "that's correct." she took a pause only to begin again, "you, fizzlewhisk," that's my name for the uninitiated, "are the source of all the questions in the whole gosh darn universe. it is you—"
"careful, friend," i interjected. "it is considered unwise to take your name in vain."
"huh? but, uh..." she flubbed. "that's not fair."
"nuh-uh! not even you are allowed to do that. life is unfair. get over it."
and then my friend cried for an hour or so. (she's more sensitive than me.) because i thought it would help, i cried along with her. (i do not leave my friends alone in times of need. if we are in it together, we are in it together.)
when we had calmed down, we took each other out for a stroll down the river bank. it was there that we found a few hollow twigs and tried to make a flute out of them.
it was playable... the air did go through!
and while i improvised, she danced and clapped happily on the tune. i smiled with an aura of someone who knows they have done something good in life. it had been a long day. i won her trust over, and she, my existence.
it was a fair deal, the fairest of them all.
p.s. dang it, i still can't tell you her name. i'll have to look for a substitute for that.
and then the lord said, "thou shalt not take my name in vain," and i said, "but i don't even know your name! what kind of friendship is this?" he thought for a while and said, "fair enough, loser. you did seem like a dum-dum to me."
we have been total bros ever since.