Patrick was walking with one of his friends. Lampposts dotted the street, and a slight fog hazed the city skyline. As the pair of friends walked, their plastic raincoats swished and squeaked slightly. They were discussing something. Something important.
“What do you value the most in life?” Patrick asked.
After a moment of silence, Patrick continued.
“There’s a popular notion that happiness is ultimately the thing that life should be lived for; that a pleasurable feeling is the most valuable thing, but I refuse to believe that I need to live my life constantly chasing a feeling.”
“Hmm, I never thought about that before Patrick.”
His friend answered, tiptoeing along the sidewalk curb with his arms outstretched like he was a trapeze artist.
“Life, in general, is so great and complex I guess. Existence itself is almost too hard to comprehend, so I don’t think that simply putting a cap on it and saying that the most valuable thing in life is —fill in the blank— is a wise thing to do. You’re just wasting time.”
There was another silence.
“Well, I think Truth is the most valuable thing. Honesty is the best policy.” Patrick said, forming his words carefully.
His friend nodded.
“I respect your opinion.”
“I respect yours, too.”
His friend bumped him playfully on the shoulder.
“This conversation is getting really deep.”
“I agree.” a pause. “Race you to that lamppost.”
Patrick broke into a run down the street. His friend laughed and followed in hot pursuit.