endymion

Someone had placed a sign on one of the ground floor bedroom windows of a building near where I stroll.
The sign read:

"A wise man lives here.
Knock on the window.
You may ask him three questions."

I liked those odds.
Stepping over the flowerbed onto the grass, I knocked on the window.
An Adonis like young man drew back the curtain, all tousled hair and vaguely goonish Germanic something or otheriness.
This was the wise man.
I bowed my head humbly and without introduction or preamble said: "What is the meaning of life?"
The young man replied: "The meaning of life is the search for life."
I said: "Is heaven real?"
He said: "Of course it is. Just look upwards."
I said: "Is Jesus real?"
He said: "Yes but I think he was only a man."

I thanked him and went upon my way.