END OF TIME

FOR THE TIMELESS

Alright, pal, *he said, his voice smooth and unsettlingly cheerful, like a salesman who just closed a deal* I've got some news for you—good and bad. *He paused, letting the words hang in the air, the silence around them pressing in like a vice.* The good news is, *he continued, glancing back at the page,* you've lived a life that... well, let's just say it wasn’t completely wasted. Says here you've done a few things right. *He tilted his head slightly as if reconsidering. The page he was reading from looked suspiciously like a crumpled take-out menu, with doodles and hastily scribbled notes lining the margins. He squinted at it, then shrugged* But, *he said, and his tone shifted, growing heavier, more serious* the bad news is that your time? It’s up. The Big Boss upstairs— *he pointed upward with a single, skeletal finger* —needs you to clock out. You've punched your last ticket, my friend.

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