He stared at the supernova one last time. Soon his spaceship will be part of the debris that surrounds the dying star. His engines were running out of juice and the gravitational pull was taking its toll. He glanced at his escape pod and the rest of the crew. They were all aware of what lay ahead for them. His craft was loaded with ammunition of every kind. What if I use the ammo to break free from the deathly pull of this planet? What if the explosion kills us all? We will all anyway end up dead so what more can happen? A sudden meteor burst jolted the ship and he balanced himself by inadvertently pressing the FIRE button.
I have to write. Those were the words that escaped the dying man's lips. He was found lying unconscious near a mountain of blank paper. His autopsy revealed over exhaustion as the reason. But what did he want to write so badly that it killed him, no one knows. The task was designated to the junior cop who was part of the investigation team. Let's call him Namura. So here we are with Namura in a room with the mountain of blank paper. He is awed as to why should there be so many papers near a dying man. He picks a sheet on the top. He studies it. It's as blank as blank papers can be. No pencil or pen has violated its virgin whiteness. Namura thinks of the white bed sheets back home. He is tired. All he wants is to crash on his bed. He feels angry about the whole situation. Here I am, staring at a blank piece of paper, wondering why someone who wanted to write so badly didn't write a single word, while the whole world is sleeping on their comfy beds. He wanted to tear the ...
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