When I was young and the world was remaining a mumbling ball of flaming rock and the people and creatures of it were still a twinkle in the eye of the tempest, I believed that the apparent ordered chaos of entropy was the only direction of travel. A rock must fall and a flame must burn. But now that I have fallen deep in thrall to the love of a human, whose life will pass in but a moment, compared to my everlasting journey, I am always wanting to improve the lives of humans and other being whose can suffer and other coin side, be happy.
Where are you going with all this? asked Sheba, Get to the point.
How can I, with my, make a difference? The Sphinx spoke again.
Well, how it works, some go a questing in search of a solve to problem, but my take is to move through and solve each riddle to the best of, as it might present.
At that time Sheba and the Sphinx came to a hard place. Here there were no leaves or flowers to soften, nor mosse, nor grasse nor even some mild breezes to make the edges less murderous sharp. Everything was an argument and a conflict such that Sheba became angry at the Sphinx and a sadness was upon them.
Why will you not say that my tail is beautiful?
What do you not understand?
Nearby was a rock in the shape of a rock which was also having the same characteristics as the place that was hard.
There was in that place a woman with a goat and the short end of a stick.
May you help me if I ask? She said looking the Sphinx up and up, or will you pass by and leave a woman and her goat to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune?
What slings and what arrows? Asked the Sphinx, are you attacked?
No, no, it’s just a lame literary reference, just ignore. Point is, trouble has come, and my goats are in threat of being consumed by a large… here the woman shrugged, I don’t know what.
How many goats and with what seasoning and sauce? asked the Sphinx.
Wrong question, said Sheba, you have not got the hang of this at all. Now, Sheba turned to the woman, This eating thing, where is it, can it be reasoned with, or must we engage with brutal paws?
I know not, replied the woman, But each night there is one less goat. At the outset I was the possessor of twenty and now this one is my only.
They may have gone on holiday or visited their grandmother perhaps? suggested the Sphinx.
No, goats don’t work like that. You would be thinking of office staff, said the woman.
Have there been left any bits of goat lying nearby or a used napkin at all?
No, now you’re thinking of lunch.
I have to use my own experience as a reference point otherwise we will not get going. At the moment I can think of no solutions, so you will have to remain with us and feel sad.
I have heard tell, said the woman, of a righteous hammer which may break through such tricky problems. Perchance we should search it out.
So they went searching.
The Guardians of the Cave 