“Ma’am, do you mind if I ask a question?”
“Not at all. What is your question?”
“Life never really seemed to have a point, but everyone treated it like it did. They found reasons to give life meaning. Some searched to leave a mark on the world, whether bitter or marvelous. Some only sought to be happy with what they had. Was there something missing? Was there a reason that we couldn’t see?”
“My dear, that is a very complex question, and I’m afraid I cannot give you an answer that would be satisfactory, but I will try. Though I am deeply entangled in the workings of life and death there are some things even I don’t know. Much that I have learned I have had to observe from those who lived. Perhaps there is some unifying quality through which all people could find peace and meaning, but I have yet to see that in my own findings. For now, until I find for myself what there is to be gained from life, I suppose life can be whatever is made of it. I can tell by your look that this answer is not what you were looking for,”
“I guess not…”
“If it is any comfort, I’d say that you did a good job. That’s all anyone could ask for really,”
“It was a happy life for the most part, though even after this, I don’t know if I’m ready to go back,”
“That’s alright. When your time comes I will be happy to give you life again. Until then I would much like to enjoy your company. You make for excellent conversation,”
“As do you, ma’am. Thank you,”
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