The Last Chapter

I have reached the age where every breath feels like a step closer to God. My son recently proposed that I transcend into what they call the “Eternal Life Form,” a digital replica of myself that could live forever. I rejected the idea. I’ve lived a full life; these days, my thoughts are consumed by the past.

Sitting in my quiet room, I decided to reflect on my life, searching for moments worth passing down. Suddenly, to my surprise, my old friends appeared in the doorway. It must have been thirty years since our last meeting. They were my childhood companions, the ones who shaped my younger years. But as I looked at their faces, I felt a growing unease. Their demeanor seemed unfamiliar, distant.

Memories surfaced, bringing both joy and embarrassment. I recalled a particularly foolish prank from our youth. We hid behind walls, waiting to jump out and scare each other as we exited the elevator. One day, I had what I thought was a brilliant idea. I stood directly in front of the elevator, turned my back to it, raised my hips, and unleashed a loud, triumphant fart just as the doors opened.

The prank would have been legendary—if only a woman hadn’t stepped out first. The look of shock and disgust on her face was matched only by the laughter of my friends, who had been on the elevator the entire time. At that moment, I learned an invaluable lesson: Think before you act.

Something felt off as I sat laughing to myself, surrounded by my old friends. Their faces were familiar, but their presence was wrong. Days later, it came back to me—they had died long ago. I had attended their funerals.

These weren’t my friends. They were something else, wearing their faces, speaking with their voices. They carried their memories but not their souls.

I suddenly hear footsteps in the hall. My son enters the room, his face emotionless.

“It’s time, Dad. It will take care of you,” he says softly.

Behind him, the machine looms.

Words from the Author

“Be reckless sometimes, be wise always.”