Stepping In The Salad (2)

STEPPING IN THE SALAD (2)

'My God,' I repeated (still feeling defeated; depleted by HE's regime).

'Indeed,' she responded.

(And, believing we'd bonded, the Priestess bent forward and beamed.)

She continued:

'It's so quaint that you pray and, indeed, I must say that your faith has sure served me quite well. Since Darwin and Freud, I've been grossly ignored. (I've no takers for heaven nor hell).

'Acknowledged by one who was never baptised; who's life is beset by deception and lies; by one rarely fazed - that is, rarely surprised . . . 

'My dear, please, refrain from looking so bored.'

(The Priestess wiped a tear, or two, from her eyes.)

'Just tell me how to live,' I barked, sans finesse.

'Alas, that's advice I can't possibly give. . . 

'But, have you ever thought of waitressing?' said the worldly Priestess, as an after-thought.