Excerpt #027

What’s the point of living, when we’re all just going to die? What’s the point of making memories when we won’t remember anything? The thought of nothingness, non-existence, oblivion consumes me. What’s holding any one back from simply ending their reality right this moment?

I hear a light knock on my door. “Dinner’s ready.”

In a moment, the universe answers:┬áthe people we’ll leave behind. Live for them. They will remember.