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The End, or So It Seems
The end the end the end.
At least, it looked like the end.
He sat in the red vinyl booth in the diner and looked out the window, wondering.
How had this happened?
The whole world, gone or going.
He saw the people, wandering.
They had nowhere to go, nowhere to be.
Neither did he, so he sat in the booth.
He had sat there many times before, wondering about life.
How ironic, he thought, that today he would be sitting here, in this spot, thinking about death.
Well, it seemed he was thinking about death.
There really was not another way that the situation could have resulted.
Everything was decaying.
Life was over, for everyone.
People outside looked toward the sky, and the wondered too.
How had this happened?
The sky was a mix of fire and smoke.
The ground was smoldering and covered with rubble.
He shook his head, and motioned to the waitress.
She came over, listlessly, and poured another coffee.
He had no money, but it didn’t matter.
Soon nothing would.
Years ago, this place had been full of life, people existing and talking and joking.
Death and destruction in every direction.
Things looked grim. Indeed, the end had come.
He got up and left the diner, and walked outside.
He looked out and the world, at the faces of the people all around, and understood.