The Meaning of Life

Perspiration spread throughout his body, making his shirt cling uncomfortably to his skin. An unruly bead of sweat slipped out of his nose as he turned his head backwards. However, neither did he stop, nor lessen the pace at which he dashed and cut through the obtrusive branches; in fact, the speed of his the rate at which his blistered feet met the jagged earth was amplified, for suddenly he remembered, with even more vivid dread, the speed of the atrocious fiend at his heels.

The monster, with berating, green eyes, evoked a displeasing reaction into the man's chest: piercing fear. The fiend slashed and scarred the earth as it used its talons to catapult himself into the desperate human. From its fangs, viscous saliva dripped making a trail, a biography, a memorial of the chase.

The prey redirected his head back to the front, demanding more from his numb calves and thighs. So much was his determination to make distance from the berserk beast and himself, that he hardly noticed the abyss before his desperate stride.

Unexpectedly, the ground below his feet evaporated and he started to thunder down to the sharp rocks at the bottom. As he heard the beast give a sonorous victory cry, he wept. He was robbed of his tears by the vertical gust of wind. Alas, all was lost; he would never know what mattered and he would disappear into a frigid storm of nonexistence.

Suddenly his unobstructed descent was stopped painfully by a branch. It took all of his air, but he clung desperately to it as the monster grunted with delight at his futile attempts for survival. In short instances he had to think, he marveled at the miraculous circumstance that had brought this perpendicular plant to his path. With a close scrutiny, he found a solitary fruit. Its color was red with the shape of an eggplant.

The branch started to splinter do to the weight exerted by the man. Before the branch snapped, the man yanked the fruit from its twig.

He continued storming down at alarming speed. His hand gripped the mysterious fruit tenaciously. Then, with instinct’s call, he brought the fruit to his mouth. He bared his teeth and cut through it. The taste of it brought a euphoria that spread to every pore of his body. A plethora of emotions flashed through him in a second. Suddenly it was all right.

He was going to die with those green eyes upon him. But it didn't matter; he had accomplished what he had come for. It didn't matter if there was something after his death; no heaven was necessary. Even if there was such a Utopia, he would refuse it and wrap the blanket of nonexistence with ebullient spirits.

So he spread his arms and anticipated the ground to return his embrace. An embrace that would rupture his skin and give way for the explosion of his organs.

He couldn't have asked for a better way to go...