next time."

"How do you know?"

"Practice makes perfect."

"OK," I said, "What about this one. I was reading a true story about a man during world war two. He hated the war so much he wanted to die, so he walked about wherever the bullets were flying, but they never hit him. He used to sit out in the open, right where the enemy could get a good shot, but the Germans kept missing. Eventually, after days and days of this, he went off and shot himself."

"So he died" said Weed, "See? He couldn't stop the bullet."

"Yeah, but he was meant to die that time."

"But what about freedom of choice? People can decide things for themselves can't they? If we say everything's going to happen to us even if we try to stop it happening, and nothing's going to happen to us even if we want it to, we might as well just sit down and let it whatever happens happen!"

"That's right," I said "That's what happens if you believe in Fate. You can't stop things happening, and you can't avoid things happening."

"I can't win!" said Weed, "If I do nothing, everything happens to me, and if I try to decide something for myself, things still happen to me. Its impossible to escape."

We were walking down the road as we talked, heading for the beach. On the way, we had to cross a railway line. Weed perched on the steel tracks, one foot on each, and looked into the distance.

"Anything coming?" I asked.

"Nah!" said Weed, "You can hear if one's coming if you put your ear to the rail"

We both pressed our ears to the rail and listened.

"Can't hear anything?" I said.

"It isn't due for another hour," said Weed, "Did I tell you the one about the Indian in the fort? He stuck his head to the ground and said he could hear horses coming. The soldiers were amazed at how clever he was, then the Indian said he could see the horses under the gate!"

"Good one!"