Must a cup, or bag, suffer an existence that is limited to just one humble purpose, defined merely by its simple function?
Two-minute Apocalypse
by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
The day the world ended I was standing at the corner of 5th and 57th checking my phone when a redhead with eyes of silver turned to me and said, "Have you noticed how the smarter phones get, the dumber people become?" She looked like a bride of Dracula fresh off a goth shopping spree next door. "Can I help you, Miss?" She said the world was coming to an end. Heavenly Legal had issued a Malfunction Recall and she was a fallen angel sent from below to ensure poor souls like mine found their way into the tenth circle of Hell in an orderly fashion. "I thought there were only nine circles down there," I objected. "We had to add one for all of those who've lived their lives as if they were going to live forever." I never took my medication seriously, but one look into those silver dollar eyes and I knew she spoke the truth. Sensing my despair, she announced that since I had not worked in the financial sector I was to be granted three wishes before the big bang recanted and the universe imploded back into a red-hot jellybean. "Pick wisely." I gave it some thought. "I want to know the meaning of life, I want to know where I can find the best chocolate ice cream ever, and I want to fall in love," I declared. "The answer to your first two wishes is the same." As for the third she gave me a kiss that tasted of all the truth in the world and made me want to be a decent man. We went for a goodbye walk in the park and then we took the elevator tho the top of the venerable Gothic-spired hotel across the street to watch the world go in style. "I love you," I said. "I know." We stood there, hand in hand, glancing at a furious tide of crimson clouds shrouding the skies, and I cried, happy at last.
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