The end of the world as he knew it

“This has been a wonderful universe,” he said. “I shall miss it.”

“Don’t talk like that,” his son said.

“Why not? It’s my universe,” he said. “You are all figments of my imagination. Nothing exists outside of what I’ve constructed in my mind, and now my mind and body are failing at last.”

“An existentialist to the end,” said his wife. “What do you suppose will happen to us?”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he said, “but I’m afraid you will be leaving with me.”

“Well, I’ve had a good life, even since before you conjured me fully grown out of your mind,” she said.

“Oh, I’m good,” he said with a wink. “You said so yourself.”

“Of course I did,” she said with a sad sigh.

“Oh! Ouch!” he said with a wince. “I believe this is it. Thank you, my love. I’m sorry this was all the time I could give you all. Especially you, my son.”

And with that, he and the vast universe he had created with his mind expired.

The room was very quiet for a long time.

Then …

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

“Oh my dear, I did try to tell him, many times, early on,” said the widow. “He never believed me.”

“I bet he believes now,” said the son.

“Of that,” she said. “I have no doubt.”

And somewhere in another plane of existence …

“Jesus!” he exclaimed.

“That’s me,” Jesus said with a gentle smile. “You and I have much to discuss.”

Scene from a Happily Ever After

“Tell me there will be a happy ending,” she pleaded.

“I can’t,” he confessed. “Endings are always sad. Even stories with a happy ending have a bittersweet quality, because the story may have ended at a happy moment but, you know, everything ends. All things must pass.”

“That’s sad and cynical,” she protested.

“No, just real,” he soothed. “That’s why it’s so important to savor the moment. When you’re happiest, you should fold the moment into some unbreakable safe in your heart, to comfort you after the inevitable.”

She sighed, hearing the truth of it all.

“Tell me, at least, that this is one of those moments,” she pleaded.

“Oh, darling,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, “of course it is, because this is nowhere near the end.”

Allen the Alien, Chapter 2

The ducks were all lined up in a row. Allen was just behind Griselda, who glanced back at him.

“Isn’t this fun?!” she cried.

“Ummm,” he said.

“Oh, don’t be a thrill kill,” Griselda scoffed. “I love Follow the Leader.”

“We don’t have this game where I came from,” Allen admitted.

“Whaaaaatt?” asked Tommy, who was snooping. “Are you from another planet or something?”

That gave Allen pause. Again, should he enter into emissary mode and offer his people’s greetings from across the galaxy, or maintain his pose as merely a fellow earthling from another land?

In his last consultation with his advisors, they had suggested he remain cagey but avoid lying out loud. Fortunately, Cupcake intervened.

“What have I told you about making fun of people who are different from you, Tommy?” she asked.

“Awwww, Mom,” Tommy whined. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I apologize for my little boy, Mr. Allen,” Cupcake said. “He doesn’t mean to be rude. No offense.”

“None taken. And just ‘Allen’ will do. That’s my first name.”

“Oh! What’s your last name?”

“Well, you couldn’t pronounce it,” Allen said without thinking.

“Dear me, Mr. Spock!” she laughed, because her family loved Star Trek. “Are you from the planet Vulcan?”

This was getting too close, but luckily it was a specific yes-or-no question.

“No,” he laughed, uneasily, and Tommy noticed he was uncomfortable but decided not to speak.