Arther sat next to Ayşe with his tea and his thoughts went from ghosts to holy ghosts, gods and goddesses.

Arther: “Why is God a bloke?”

Ayşe: “Is he?

Arther: “Well, it’s not Goddess is it?”

Ayşe: “In Turkish they have no gender, just ‘o’!”

Arther: “Oh?”

Ayşe: “No, ‘o’, like ‘o’ in orange without the range. So, he, she and it are all ‘o’s.”

Arther: “Oh!”

Ayşe: “So, in Turkish God can be a he or she or even just it I guess.”

Arther: “Or a heshe or shehe?”

Ayşe: “You’re being silly now.”

Arther: “You better not let LGBT hear you say heshe or shehe are silly.”

Ayşe: “You bollix!”

Arther: “Oi! That’s my word. I nicked it from Roddy Doyle first.”

Arther’s vivid imagination disturbed him slightly while T offered philosophical comment, “Ah, philosophy. Who are we? What are we? How did we come to be? What’s it all about?” But, since there were no immediate answers to these questions, he decided upon, “anymore tea in the pot?”

Mrs. T: “We do English tea T and a fresh pot if required.”

Mr. T: “… and we sit in Turkey, so abi çay molası!”

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