The End

Writing this text, white on black, thinking that maybe death is like this?

White on black.

A deep and all consuming darkness, devoid of sound and temperature. But with words there, floating like a single isolated constellation of stars. Tiny letters, in pure white.

Two words.

A simple sentence we read a thousand times, but never truly understood until reading it here.

And we feel it. The sad smile. Knowing that in a moment, even this will be gone.