Jean Paul Sartre wrote, “One always dies too soon -or too late. And yet one’s whole life is complete at that moment, with a line drawn neatly under it, ready for the summing up. You are – YOUR LIFE , and nothing else.“

To commemorate (really, what else would I be commemorating) reaching 5,000 comments, I issue this high brow challenge. I dare you.

Read the quote. Ponder it. Think deeply upon it. Gut check time, people.

Now write me a ficlet and tell me a tale of life and death and the eternal struggle of man to find meaning within either or both. What’s life mean? What kind of punctuation mark does death put upon it? To what does one life amount?

Agree with the quote, or argue against it. Make me laugh, or make me cry.

And no rules, really. But I will read, comment (cause that’s what I do), and eventually judge. Deadline will be about a week after I stop seeing new entries to the challenge.