On Death and Dying

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I’ll never see them again. We were in the car…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why do people have to die?”

“Death is a disease, a ticking time bomb inherent to every living thing, no matter how big or how small. Sometimes, it strikes without warning, sometimes by deliberate action. And sometimes, it is just by a freak accident.”

“But why?”

“Because we chose the second door, and not the first. We were poisoned by the fruit we ate, our means of attaining a life everlasting blocked from us by a flaming sword.”

“I want to live forever.”

“In a way, everybody does.”

“No. I mean…I want to… live …forever.”

“Life does not work like that.”

“I’m going to do it. I’m going to take from the Grim Reaper his prize. I don’t know how, but I will.”

“That is impossible. Death does not work like that. How are you going to accomplish this?”

“I just said it: I don’t know. But I will. I promise you that, but I will.”

“And how are you going to do that, when you, as I, are already dead?”

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