Someone stopped me in the morning while I was strolling around my house, “Are you ready for the end of the world? Sir” he asked passionately. Apart form being scared from the surprise – not the fucking idiot whose job to preach and change people attitude to a lovely, shining morning, I felt so angry. If I had been a bad guy, I would have told him “Fuck off”. However, before I calmed my gasping he asked me whether I believe in God; another “bugger off” roamed in my head, “Which one?” I yelped. With a western African accent and sparking eyes as if he found his target he said “the Lord Jesus Christ”. I wondered at him for seconds then cleared my throat “My friend it’s 10 O’clock and it’s glorious sunshine and to be honest your Jesus is too nice to believe in”. I thought by replying crudely I escaped unwanted conversation but he asked me what my mother-tong was – even though I didn’t know what was the relation between early-God-preaching and my first language -“Arabic” I replied. He fetched a booklet from his bag and gave it to me; I cast my eyes in his, with a straight smile “what an idiot who is going to think of God in this time?”
Later in the day I asked what was the relation between the ending of the world and believing in God.