The Lonely Road

Four boys make their way across a desert using an old used sedan. The road is long – the desert goes on in all directions, and the only sign that it does have an end is the mountains off in the distance. The road isn't, however, lonesome; occasionally an 18-wheeler or a family RV come out of seemingly no where, keep up with them for a few moments, before going on and passing by.

The boys didn't care. They were in full spirits, making joke and comments to pass the time while one of them kept his focus on the road. The boys were old enough to drive but young enough to still be called boys. Old enough to start thinking about life, but young enough to not yet understand death.

But one did try to make the effort that very night. While the others stayed oblivious, he put his face to a cold car window and thought deeply for the first time about the world without him. It was a strange idea. A foreign one, one he didn't particularly like. And yet he kept thinking of it, kept trying to piece it all together.

“What do you think happens after we die?”

The question was just loud enough to stop the other three from laughing. They turned to the companion who had made their lighthearted romp reach a morbid conclusion.

“What are you going on about?” One of the boys pepped out.

The philosopher shrugged. “I'm just curious.”

The conversation would've ended there if it wasn't for his curiosity also infecting one of the boys who was driving, even though he didn't necessarily understand the question.

“I mean its a safe to say that we probably go to some place like Heaven, right? Well, maybe not Heaven exactly, but something like it. Like a place where people can all hang out with their previous generations.”

“No, I didn't say where we go, I said what happens.”

“What's that question supposed to mean?” The original skeptic pointed out. “I mean, we die, we're no longer in the world, that's it.”

“But, I mean, people miss us, right? Our families miss us, our friends miss us-”

“Hey,” the driver spoke up again, motioning towards the fourth member who had not yet spoken. “Think Lisa from 5th grade would miss you if you died?”

“Oh, I don't think so.” Though the fourth gave a definitive answer, he shrugged. “Well, I don't know. I mean, how is she gonna figure out I'm gone anyway?”

There was a moment of silence that followed in which each of the members of the car digested those words. Gone. Died. How could they apply to them? Then again, don't they apply to everyone?

“What made you think of this, anyway?” – That would be the skeptic's last question.

The philosopher, just like before, shrugged. “I've just been thinking out it. It's weird, y'know? I mean, when some old dude dies, its expected, there's just some family gathered around, but if it happens to one of us.”

The fourth now vocally addressed his opinion on the subject. “Can we stop talking about this, please? Jesus, it's like you're out to jinx us or something.” That didn't stop the philosopher from continuing.

“I just wonder like, have we done enough in the world to warrant us being of any real importance? Or maybe our deaths would be more important, cause a lot of people we know about are still around-”

The driver, one of the philosopher's original allies, now spoke against him. “Hey, maybe it's not the best time to talk about this, okay? I don't want to be stuck on this long car ride talking about this.”

And so the philosopher finally quit, but the car ride never did quite get back to the positivity they had beforehand. Now, they all had death on their minds. Their own deaths.

They say that, near your death, you begin to take these things into consideration. No one knows how the body and mind are able to predict these events, nor does anyone know whether it's really true that they can. Only one thing is for sure – a hell of a lot of men on their deathbed tend to find God in those final moments. You can only wonder why. 

---

Twitter: @CodexofAegis
Facebook: facebook.com/CodexofAegis