Death of an Atheist

a quick story by Robert Arvay 

It was over.  He could no longer deny it.  The entire universe had come to this:  desolation.  Only one man remained.  He stood alone, between life and final extinction.

He gazed up at the night sky, for it was now an eternal night.  The light of a few dim stars reached him across the void, light that after millions of years only just now found him.  The stars that had sent them were long since dead.  These last few dim flickers were all that were left, distant memories, and even these fading memories would soon be gone.  Final darkness would fill the universe.

Why, he asked.

Trillions of years had passed.  It had all begun with a flash of light, a happenstance event with no reason, no purpose, no goal.  Why?

Untold billions of men and women had been born, lived and died.  They were forgotten now, save for the few that lingered in his failing memory.  Soon, he too, would die, and after that, there would be no memory of anything.  Nothingness would return.  It would then be exactly the same as if nothing had ever existed, as if nothing had ever happened.  Ever.  Had it?

Civilizations had arisen, triumphed, then declined and disappeared.  Brave men had become heroes, while fearful cowards had whimpered.  They were no more, none of them.  To what end had all that heroism flourished?  No one could remember.

Humans had struggled for survival, then died anyway.  Great minds had pondered the mysteries of life, leaving behind only questions unanswered.

Why is there something instead of nothing?  He knew the answer, at last, for indeed, there is nothing.  There never had been anything at all, and there never would be.

Such were the thoughts of a dying atheist as he neared his end, knowing that the end of him would be the final end of all existence.

Dared he hope?  No, he decided.  It is better to face a dismal reality, he thought, than to wallow in a futile fantasy of hope, a fantasy that had never been, nor ever could be.

He would die, he decided, with this one final vestige of honor, his respect for truth.  After that, there would be no honor, nor truth.  Why ask why, he thought, when there is no why, nor ever had been?

It had begun with nothing, it was so ending with nothing.  Reality had been a cosmic prank, a prank upon itself, and now the ultimate prank of all, itself was becoming nothing.

And so he died, and with him his futile atheism.  When he awoke, he was astonished.

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