"And then you turn here to the right."
"Really? No, I don't think so. The left path must be the way.
It's more attractive, and it somehow just feels right."
"I'm sorry, but you have to take the fork to the right. See the
little sign pointing the way?"
"Yes, but something just tells me the left fork is the one to
take. The ground looks better, and that tree up ahead seems
so persuasive."
"Well, I ought to know the way to my own house. There is only one
way, along the right path."
"Uh uh. The right path looks bad. I just can't believe it leads to
your house. You probably don't remember correctly."
"You'll get lost if you don't come this way. The other fork dead
ends. The only thing there is a swamp, a pit, and a snake."
"It can't be. It looks so well traveled. And I have such a feeling
that it will take me to your house; I've got to try it."
* * *
"Hi. Hop in."
"Thanks, I appreciate the ride."
"No problem. Where are you going?"
"I don't know. That's what I want to find out. Where are you going?"
"To San Diego."
"Then where are you going?"
"Back home, why?"
"And then where are you going?"
"Well, oh, I get it. Then I'm going to rise in the firm and
become president."
"And then where will you go?"
"I guess eventually I'll retire. Say, you feeling all right? You
seem a little strange."
"But after you retire, where will you go?"
"Well, we all die eventually, so I guess I'll wind up at the cemetery."
"And then where will you go?"
"I get it. You're one of those religious fanatics, right? I think
you'd better find another ride. You can get out here."
"Okay, I'm going. But I see you don't know where you're
going, either."
"Yes, I do. I'm going to San Diego."