The demon gave us a tour while we waited for the Ambassador, fashionably late. "This," said the demon, gesturing to a rough sphere of pink flesh, "is a particular favorite. He wished that he would never die. Not to live eternally, mind, nor for stasis, but never, henceforth, to die. Thus it was simplicity itself to grant his desire."
The demon laid a clawed hand on the ball, dimpling its surface. "Every one of his cells is still here, and new ones come every day. I think eventually he will smother the universe. Yet even then, he will never die..."
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1 comment:
I love the meaning at the core of this, though I have heard it many times. I am always drawn the more morbid topics, it seems.
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