Aurora 2026

Anonymous

What is dying?

Is it lying in a garden? Is death sleeping? Is death the opposite of life? Is it the continuation of the soul? Is it the resting place? Is it the Consequence of living? Is it Hell? Is it Heaven?

Where is Heaven? Is Heaven a place on Earth? No. Surely not.

I went home and lay down. I didn’t get any water to drink, or any food to eat. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty. I hadn’t been hungry or thirsty for as long as I can remember. At least since today and last week and 2 months ago and a year from now. Or somewhere around that time. “Mom?!” I called from my bed. “Mommy?!” I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed for my mommy. She didn’t answer. She was gone. She was dead. She’d been dead since yesterday, and the day before, and a long time before that. “Oh right. Mommy is gone.” I turned over away from my grey wall and put my face into the grey pillow, and tried again, “Mommy? Mom?! Mom, where are you?” Maybe that would work. There was but one problem I faced in my new, grey, lonely, lonely world. What was it, you ask? Well, I don’t know. I have never known, I will never know, you’ll never know. If I could jump back in time before I knew I was the only real person on Earth, before I even knew what Solipsism was, I would, but it wouldn’t matter. And you see, this is because this is always the way the world has been. Dark, grey, lonely, quiet, dead.

You and I are both dead, somewhere in the future. Somewhere in the past

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