The Meaning Of

During a discussion about the meaning of life with my friend, we somehow began writing this story. I would write an installment, and then she would, completely making it up as we went. This is the result. Basically, for 70 some years, my friend searches for the grand question and answer to the meaning of life. Finally, after all that time, we come in contact again.

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9. IX

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I opened the door and smile warmly at her. She hadn't changed a bit. I remembered how we used to tease her because her face hadn't changed from the time she turned five on into adulthood, but now she was the lucky one. She had zero wrinkles and long gray-brown hair. Her body creaked from all the damage she had done doing karate, yet she was still more active than the average elderly person. A car honked as it pulled out of my driveway. Sam waved at her wife as she drove away, and then she turned back to me. "Sup," she nodded. I held out my arms, "Aw Sam! It's so good to see you! Hug!" Despite her protests, Sam did actually hug me. "It's been years, and you still bug me about that?" She complained. "But of course," I responded. I led her inside my humble home. We sat on the couch in my family room and began our discussion. I had hoped that Sam would have had a working phone number for Carmen, but that turned out to not be the case. Apparently, Carmen had gotten a new number and failed to inform either of us. That definitely sent a signal of where we were on her friend list. Clearly she didn't care about us nearly as much as we did for her. Why were we looking for her again? I wondered. Nevertheless, we continued bouncing ideas off each other of how to find her. No matter how bitter I was that Carmen had left without much explanation, I still needed to know the meaning of life, if there even was one. 

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