‘Did you read the new article by Prof Greene in this month’s New Scientist?’ Prof Wolfe asked his professor wife over morning coffee.
‘Yeah,’ she laughed. ‘That quack. A hilarious mixture of pseudo-science, speculation and old wives tales. All wrapped up in numbers and formulas that Einstein himself couldn’t decipher.’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘I found it quite convincing.’
‘Are you serious? You actually believe that his mathematical study proves that there are currently twenty perfect people for everybody on Earth? And that, early deaths aside, there is one totally perfect partner out there for each of us?’
‘What if it’s true?’ he pondered wistfully, more to himself than to her.
‘David?’ She asked sitting forward. ‘Are you unhappy with our relationship?’
He waved his hand. ‘No. Not unhappy.’
‘Great!’ she exclaimed. ‘So not exactly happy either then?’
‘But what if it’s true? What if I’m not the perfect one for you.’
She sighed. ‘Right now David, you’re not in the top one billion, let alone the top twenty. I’m going to take the girls and stay with Mother for a while. You go find your perfect woman or what ever the hell it is you want’