A question finds me: “Are you spiritual or religious in any way?” I already dislike the woman asking the question, but am not in a position to openly do so. There isn’t a good reason for the dislike. Also, she is my boss. I bring myself to feel something I tell myself to be genuine appreciation for the asking of the question. It’s a good question. It is not asked often and she has me wondering why. Sitting at the wooden table we drink wine after work. In the declamation of our achievements of spirituality I find myself listing and observing myself listing things. The boss lady is listing quite severely. A third woman isn’t so sure. This is deemed weakness. The boss lady pins herself with the badge of extreme hypersensitivity. I claim it also. The third asks what it means. I tell her no one is sure. The boss lady corrects me. It is feeling what others are feeling all the time. I confirm it. The third feels relief at something so easy. I bring up a recent argument with a lover as an excuse to talk about talking to frogs (which I can’t do). The boss lady doesn’t wince. She is able to know a person’s time of death and speak with fish. The third shrugs, she can’t do anything.