Blank Wall

Two old men shared a hospital room. As it all took place in a world where people can live out their days in hospitals peacefully, they spent all their time talking. No families came over to drag them down with their fear of dying, nor did the cold, hunger, or thieves of the hospital bother them. No, the two men could focus on their departure and get ready to leave this planet.

They talked about their past relationships, their military service, their business and moneymaking. They both had had rich and fulfilling lives. But they were not completely symmetrical.

“I am afraid, Charles.”

“Afraid? Of dying?”

“Yes, my friend. You see, I had a rich and fulfilling life, many relationships, successes in my military service and a lot of luck in my businesses and moneymaking… But now I am here, in this fairy-tale bed, unable to move, and my physicality is beginning to haunt me. I fear I am at the end of my existence, and all my experiences so far will now go to waste.”

“Didn’t you pass all that you know to your wonderful son an heir?”

“Yes, Charles, I have. But he is not me. I will cease to be and my story will be over. Soon. Oh, despair!”

Charles did not want the man to die without hope, so he told the story of Phineas Gangridge, a wealthy merchant who died in the town of Newport and went to Heaven. Charles explained heaven was a place of happiness where everybody lived endlessly and could enjoy the sun, the breeze, and food. And everybody was young again, and could taste fresh pussy any time, day or night.

“Thank you, Charles. I can now die in peace, knowing there is a story of a man who went to heaven. Perhaps I too can go to heaven, like the man in the story.”

Having said that, Charles’s friend passed on into the blackness and nothingness, and he was no more. However, with the last flash of electric current in his brain, he imagined himself living on in a place where his existence mattered.

The moral of the story is, do not deny some people their false hopes. Perhaps, it is the only thing they have.

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