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.




I finally woke up after tossing and turning the entire night and realized it was one in the afternoon. I didn't bother getting up. The question still was lingering in my head. I thought I would try to distract myself from them by visiting my best friend, Jade. I got myself ready and I looked at my desk, as if the letters were calling my name. I went back over to them and reread them for the last time. They still made me mad at Carmen for sending them to me. So I crumpled them up in threw them in the trash. She never asked for my help. She never explained herself. Screw her. I had my own life to live and I was going to live it. How could I let one pointless letter consume my daily life. I was going to find out the meaning of my life without interruptions from people who were not in my life anymore. 

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