It was closing time at Alph’s Primal Soup Kitchen, but only in three dimensions and nobody knew yet anyway. Peter slid the bolt on the tiny door, rubbed a peephole in the mist on the window glass, and surveyed the row of abandoned camels tethered outside.
“Pass me that unified superstring,”said Alph Omega, tweaking a morsel of soup solids from his long white beard. He sniffed. A dewdrop bobbed beneath his nose. “Must tie up a few loose ends.”
“Sure thing, Boss,”muttered Peter reaching for the relevant material and the Kleenex. He surveyed the ball of dark matter in his hand and then the growing dewdrop on Alph’s nose. “Boss?”
“Would you run that super-symmetry business past me again... slowly?”
“One last time then... The geometry describing the surface of a sphere is the same for the inside as for the outside. The question is: are you inside looking out, or outside looking in?”
“You mean it’s a matter of viewpoint?”
“More a viewpoint of matter... Oh, and scale, of course.”
“No. Matter in general. Oh, yes. Thanks.”
Alph blew his nose and space-time vanished.
Beyond the singularity a tiny door opens. Alph Omega appears with Peter at his side stretching and yawning. A miniscule dewdrop is gathering on Alph’s nose...