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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38. XXXVIII

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Who was this person who stood before me? I had never seen this person before in my life. I followed him down the hallway and I asked him if we could get Jason. He told me that he had handled it. He also told me that there was a chopper outside waiting for us to take us to New Zealand. Great. Just great. Now I had to fly to freaking New Zealand!? I just wanted to go home and sleep. That was all I was asking. I told him my name and asked for his name in return, but he refused to tell me. He had a strong build and had tattoos up and down his arms. I asked him his age and he told me that he was 64. But he looked like Jason? What was going on? We finally made it out of the building. I looked back to see what it looked like, but there was nothing but a door. Jason and I had been in some kind of a bunker. How many more of those were there? We finally made it to the chopper and I looked around to see Jason sitting in the seat farthest from me. He looked so tired and weak and was actually starting to look his age. The mystery man looked at me and then to Jason and a worried look washed across his face. He then yelled to the pilot to hurry and to get us there as soon as possible. 

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