The Ball at the End of Time

By bakryo All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Scifi

Act 1

At the end of times there was an extravagant ball and everyone was invited. It was hosted on one of the outer branches of the milky way galaxy, and it spanned a few million light years in length.


"How much time do you think we have left anyway?"


"I don't know. A few days? They'll know when it's close, everything's already prepared. You should see the confetti Madra, they're of all the colors. And they'll play the most beautiful symphonies."


Joseph Madra sighed. "Alright, Emily, alright." He was seated at the mahogany desk, but the papers hid every inch of it. A giant stack of books layed perilously on one corner, threatening to fall on the bright eyed girl at any subtle flow of air.


"When the last stars are close to burst, you'll come with me?" Emily asked.


"When the last stars are close to burst, I'll come with you." He repeated.
The girl smiled. A slight nod of her, and a distinguished salutation, "au revoir", and she was gone. Madra sighed. Papers and mahogany were a fancy of his. The major part of his work was backed up in the network. A few hundred thousands of pages, written through the ages. His major thesis.


He opened the first page. "Concerning the question of meaning relative to existence in an apparently existence-contrarian universe". A little verbose, back in the days he was big eyed and pretentious. Now, a few millions years after-- How many years had it been?-- The working title got shorter. "The Universe: what does it will and what wills it". And the content was as vague as ever; the explanation verbose and without meaning.


Madra paced in his room like a wild animal. Blue drapes covered the unique windows giving a view to the unending cosmos. They were held on each side by golden rods, made of synthetic gold. In the distance you could see the stars going supernovae. They splashed matter around like blood. Red matter, blue and orange. Orange like the red californian desert of the Earth that was the craddle of mankind. It was one of the first to go. The window gave sight to Armageddon and Madra couldn't bear to see it.


He jumped into the pod that made way to all the places. It teleported him to an idlic planet with blue grass and a wind so soft it cradled you to sleep. The wiseman Arvin Pullman was seated in deep meditation under a tree.


Arvin Pullman spent the last few thousands years seated in meditation. Word ran about that he achieved enlightenment and then some more; that he was the wisest in the whole cosmos. Joseph Madra stood beside him.


"You again. You`re still thinking about the same thing, aren't you?" said Arvin.


"The universe. What does it will? What wills it? If I am Madra stading here, does it will me to do anything peculiar? Isn't it strange to exist at all! It would be simpler had there been nothing at all."


"I don't know about that anymore than you do. Frankly I don't care. I've stopped thinking about that eons ago. Thinking is so cumbersome. Look at the stars Madra, a once in a lifetime scene. Very few things seldom are these days, with a lifetime now stretching to eternity. But you can only witness the end of everything once."


Madra looked up, but nothing stirred his interest. Stars going supernovae. It's been like this for a while now. He shook his head with despair. A few days left now. His heartbeat timed the ultimate demise, and he could feel everyone of them. He snickered.


"Are you going to the ball?" He said.


"Of course. Everyone's going to the ball. You should see the confetti. You should go too. Emily must have invited you," He looked at Madra expectantly. Madra shrugged. "Of course she did. What a good heart this girl has, you don't deserve the fancy she got on you. Her fault is that she's a romantic." He shook his head. "God help her she's a romantic... Or you know, whoever's up there. I hope we get to meet him soon. I've got so many questions to ask him. Like, why giraffes? Such unnecessary and extravagant creatures."


"I've got to go."


"Don't think too much, philosopher man. There's seldom time to think now, you've had millions of years, your insight won't come in the face of doom. But I heard the ball is going to be really nice."


Madra seldom heard. He ran now to the pod, and teleported back to his place, a giant cube floating in space, isolated from everything and anyone, under the gaze of the andromeda galaxy that was blue, and complimented his mahogany desk nicely.

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