I sit at the table. Just staring at the bowl of cereal in front of me. Cheerios. They have gone past that perfect point of being saturated with milk, but still crunchy, to being a bowl of mush. A bowl of mush which I cannot stomach. You see, I prefer texture over taste, so something like the abomination sitting before me now,I will never be able to stomach eating. I push the mush away from me, and rest my chin in the palm of my hand, elbow resting on the table. This is my 'I don't want to get on with the day' pose. You see, I have a lot on my mind of late. I'm almost certain that I am going to die soon. Not that my life is in any particular danger, nore do I outworldly appear particularly unhealthy. Nothing more than eating too much, and moving too little would make one look anyway. It's just a feeling that I have.

I glance at the clock, 7:49 AM Tuesday, May, 16, 2039 it reads. Another meaningless time, on another meaningless day. I'm sure that for someone, somewhere, it's an important time and an important day. That is their life though, and not mine. That is their story to tell. I hope that they have someone who would listen to it. I have nobody to listen to my story, not that I really have one to tell. No, my life is a rather unremarkable one, if a little bit depressing. I've lived 48 years now, more or less. I've not lived a great life, but not one with undue hardship either. My life has been filled with fleeting friends and hopeless endeavors. If I had to describe it, than it would be a life of failures. I spread myself too thin, and make it impossible to accomplish anything that I want to.

I never had any children, nor got married. Just never really felt as though I was ready for that. I've lived through a few wars now, not that any of them were fought close to where I live. My life has been remarkably unremarkable really. I could complain about a great many things, but I've found it doesn't help anyone to do that if I'm honest. Just make a nuisance out of myself.

Tangents aside. I really am quite sure that I'm going to die soon. It feels as though I have a sixth sense for it. I can't describe the feeling, just that it is something I am more sure of than I have been of just about anything else I have ever been.

I pick myself up from the table, grab the bowl, and dump the mush down that garbage disposal in the sink. I suppose that if I have no way to prove it, then there really isn't anything to do about it. I'll just have to get on with the day. I have a bit of time left in the morning before I really have to get on with anything, so I sit to watch the news. Morning news is an odd thing. A combination of cheerful and sad, like an oxymoron in real time. Today the news is the same as any other day. Things are looking up in one way or another, but dismal in most. Another super hurricane is about to hit the keys, and the fools aren't following the evacuation order. But hey, the next neuralink beta is about to start, and they are accepting applicants.

I watch the depressingly cheerful news anchors for a while more on my tv. AR glasses are all the rage now, but it hurts my eyes to wear them so early in the morning, so I forgo them for the time being. Having my fill of the news, I head out to the car to get on with it. I have to go to the office for my weekly in-person meeting. It's a pain to actually go in person, but the manager is a traditional sort. Likes to see your face and not your avatar in a virtual meeting room. Tuesday at 10AM we all have to be there, and hear how terrible we are doing. The man never seems to be satisfied with anything.

I press my thumb to the keypad to lock the door on my way out, and head down the stairs to my car. It's an older car, but I can't complain. It might not be anything special to look at, but gets me from point A to point B, and that's all I need these days anyway. For a little while once I get in the car, things seem to me going alright, and the cruel feeling that death is lingering over me fades somewhat. Ironic since cars kill more people than most things.

I arrive to the office parking lot safe enough, head to the elevator and wait that unreasonable long time for the thing to arrive. It seems no matter how many elevators a building has, they always take too long to get to you. I finally get on, and punch the button for the 23rd floor. I and a few other folks from other parts of the building step in, and go on our way in silence. the silence is the only redeeming part of an elevator. you know, aside from avoiding 23 flights of stairs that is. Finally, with the unremarkable monotony of another tuesday, I arrive at the open concept work area. The focus room they call it, because everything needs a pretentious name these days. Dragging my feet to my general area, since we mostly work from home, there is no dedicated seating. It's more like a school computer room. Just take a seat whenever it suits your fancy, and get to work. I tend to sit in the same spot, but that's just a habit. I'm sure someone else will be sitting here tomorrow.

I glance over to my left, and see amber sitting there. "Good morning Amber." I say

"Good morning," she says in response.

Amber is a lovely young woman, I believe she will be 29 next month. A truly lovely face with sharp yet delicate features, and a radiant smile. The brightest platinum blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. We speak briefly of the meeting to come, and I glance at her wheelchair. I know it's rude, but I can't help myself. For some reason I always wanted to have a wheelchair when I was younger, and the brief fantasy slithers across my mind for a bare moment. Looking back up to her eyes, another sight and another fantasy flash in my mind, before I ruthlessly shove that back down.

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Amber and I continue exchanging pleasantries for a few more moments, before we go back to doing... whatever we were doing. Wasting time while on the clock mostly. I glance at my watch again, it's now 9:45am Tuesday, May 16th, 2039. I sigh in general disappointment at my life, and log in so I can review my documents a bit before the meeting. Suddenly, that feeling I'm about to die strikes me again like a lightning bolt, and my ears begin to ring so loudly and painfully. No... my ears are not ringing. It's the fire alarms! I look up at the flashing lights on the walls, and see everyone else in the office running for the doors in a mad panic. We are one the 23rd floor of a 35 floor building. If we have to take the stairs, that's at least 10 minutes to walk to the bottom, 5 if you are really booking it.

I look back at Amber, and see the panic in her eyes. Our office was in chaos as everyone scrambled to get out, but the two of us just looked at each other. I knew at that moment why I was going to die. It is a noble enough death, trying to help someone else. There are worse ways to go, I just wish I'd had some more time to... do something. You know what, to hell with it, I really don't care about this life anyway.

Amber immediately takes off in her electric motor driven chair, and beelines for the elevator. I see her mashing the button as I approach from behind. These stupid things... they will take far too long to get here.

"SMOKE!" someone shouts from one side of the open space. I look with wild eyes in panic, and sure enough, there is smoke off to one side of the room, coming up from one of the stairwells on that side. Someone opens the door to enter the office from that side, and smoke billows into the space. The fire suppression system kicks in instantly, dowsing everyone still in the room in... oh god. Is this dirty water? Nobody ever said that it would be water that looked like it came off of a dirty mob bin.

I grab Amber's chair, and barely manage to rotate her away from her efforts to keep mashing on the 'down' button. "I'm going to carry you down the stairs" I say to her, determination stealing my features in what I hope is a look of determination and strength. Amber is small enough, and I'm big enough that it will probably work. she nods at me.

"Let's go, I trust you," Amber says to me. Flawlessly managing the look I was going for.

I kneel down in front of her chair, and tell Amber to give me her hands, I hoist her onto my back, and we manage to work together enough that I get her into a decent piggy back. I take off for the stairs, her numb legs dangling from my sides like leg shaped pendulums with every step I take. We merge into the constant stream of people leaving the office, and wait our turn to get onto the stairs.

When I finally get to see into the stairwell, I know that it is going to take more than 10 minutes to get to the ground floor. It is an absolute river of people screaming and scrambling down the stairs. No other good option, I do my best to elbow my way down the stairs. I manage to get into the landing and instantly get forced to move with the tide of people. I miss the first step off the landing, and fall. I hear Amber scream on my back as we begin to tumble down the stairs. somehow the people I knock into manage to stay standing, and quickly rush past us as we lay on the stairs.

Like a slow moving tsunami of people, the inexorable press of people surge towards the both of us. paying on the ground as we were, people began stomping on us in the mad rush to evacuate the building. I pull Amber close to me, trying my best to press myself to the wall unter the railing. My actions are futile. In the noise and with the mass of people from the 7 floors above us, we are slowly stomped on for at least a minute. Amid the stomping and the screaming I hear my left leg break, and know that this is the end for me.

The tide of people finally comes to an end, and someone tries to help me up.

"Come on man, can't leave you there like that," I heard him say. My vision blurs, and I can't quite make out who it is. The voice sounds familiar, but I can't place it. I think I hit my head when I fell. The only thing I can manage is a weak whimper as I feel my leg move in places it's not meant to below me.

"Wait, wait!" I say, as the state of my leg becomes clear to me. "My leg broke, at my ankle. I cant walk" I tell the man. Or at least I try to, my words are slurred and my tongue is too large in my mouth. I definitely hit my head pretty hard.

I release the man's hand, as the looming death begins to flood my body with an aching that rivals my broken leg for my attention.

“Oh, I do apologize for that. I always forget to reduce my pressure on those who are compatible with this inheritance.” The mystery man says next to me.

I look up at him, as the knowing that I was moments from death seems to fade to little more than idle musing. Whatever he did, I felt safer now. When my eyes finally lock onto his, I am not gazing into the eyes of any human. They are voids of space, with stars, and some sort of galaxy for a pupil, slowly spinning and drawing me into them.

“Come child, It is time that you awaken” A voice like thunder echoed in my head. I did not hear it with my ears, but directly through my mind. Like an alien presence has taken my brain hostage and used it like a walky talky.

“It may be your time to leave this world, but do not fear. You will understand all the time, young one.” That odd non voice said again, and I looked deeper into those endless eyes. My body protests, but mechanically I manage to stand. I almost slipped on something, and remembered Amber! I rip my eyes away from those cosmic eyes, and see her laying next to my feet.

I had it wrong. I thought that it was I who would die on these stairs, but as I saw the pool of blood coming from Amber’s head, her ivory skin and platinum hair stained with gore. I know it is too late. My eyes go back to the… man? Now that I look I can’t really tell. Whatever. I look at them again with the plea for help on my lips.

“I can do nothing for her body, young one.” He says before I even have the chance to speak. “This is a fortuitous opportunity for you though. Count yourself Lucky.”

He steps down the few stairs to stand equal to us, bends down, and places a hand on Amber's chest. “Hey! You can’t touch a woman like that when she’s passed out!” I shout at him, even though I know in my heart that she is much more than simply passed out. But before I can say anything else or move to stop him, he rips something out of Amber, and she jolts, then slides down the last few steps to the landing below us. I stare at her, any hope of aiding her finally lost. Amber is dead. I ball my fist and grip the railing harder, and look bad at the thing that killed Amber.

“Silence.” he says as he places a hand on my shoulder. “She is not dead, young one. This world… you do not know what death is. You will learn, but I have not the time to explain it here and now. My being here is disrupting the flow of this world, and we must be on our way.”

Having seemingly said his peace, he does to me whatever he did to Amber, and I feel myself being ripped from my body, and a phantom feeling of my body falling to lay next to Amber’s. Everything fades, and oblivion takes me into its embrace.