When the world dies

A Story by Malare

When the world dies, who will feel it first?

When the sun goes out and the moon stops rising? When the oceans dry up and the deserts flood? When the ice caps are gone and the jungles are burned to the ground? When the sky falls and the earth collapses under its own weight? When the people suffer the fate that they've written for themselves, and the world pays the price for it?

Will it be the businessman, who looks up from his work after noticing that his stocks have fallen to zero, and the sky has gone black?

Will it be the conspiracy theorist, who has been telling anyone who would hear him out for years that this very thing would happen, and yet, is taken aback that it actually did?

Will it be the priest, with his head bowed, praying to the lord above, begging for the forgiveness of the human race, only to look outside and see the answer to his futile prayers?

Will it be the soldier, fighting on the front lines, and laying down his weapon with his mouth agape after witnessing the deaths of so many people catching up with him, and the rest of the human race, for that matter?

Will it be the athlete who feels the need to stop training?

Will it be the artist who no longer wants to draw?

The writer who is at a loss for words?

The singer who looses his voice?

Personally, I believe the one who will feel it first will be the one who is already dead inside. The one who has spent his entire life, painting a smile on his face, yet never feeling one. The one who has never wanted to live a day in his life. The one who should feel nothing at this event. I believe that man will look at the world, watching as the ground collapses and the seas dry, as the sky burns and the people die, and for the first time in his life, he will genuinely smile, not because the world is dying per se, but because he can finally relate to it, seeing what he has felt his entire life, happening around him.

I believe he will feel bliss.