We are driving back from swimming, when Scooter breaks the silence:
“Where does it all come from?” he asks with an incredulous tone.
“Where does what all come from?” I ask, “what do you mean?”
“All this stuff,” Scooter goes on, indicating the world around him, “where did it all start? All the trees and the grass…”
I wonder if it is it too late to answer the atom question.