Journey to another world in the subway

Chapter 163 After Death
"What did the dead leave behind?"

What will each of us leave behind before we die?
Tombstones always crumble, and whatever is inscribed on them is always blurred beyond recognition decades later.

In the past, no one would take care of the graves, and the cemetery would often be redistributed by the newly buried dead.

Only the children and parents of the deceased will pay homage to the deceased. It is rare for grandchildren to go once, and great-grandchildren almost never go.

In the metropolis, the dead are supposed to be buried in eternal peace, but their bones are often disturbed.

Perhaps to make better use of the land, redevelop rural cemeteries where new housing estates will be built.

The land is getting more and more crowded, not only for the dead, but also for the living.

Half a century of peaceful sleep is already a great luxury for the dead, and perhaps only before the invention of electricity, people had such a luxury.

Who cares what happens to a person when the whole planet is dying?

Everyone who survived the subway will not be buried after death. They don't even dare to hope that their bodies will not be eaten clean by other creatures within a week after death.

Human remains have the right to exist until the living forget who they belonged to.

People always remember their relatives, their classmates, and their comrades-in-arms, but this kind of memory is only enough for three generations, more than fifty years to be exact.

Human beings are so forgetful. One day the images of our grandfather and our classmate friends will eventually disappear in our minds, and one day someone will banish us and drive us out of our own memories.

The memory of a person may last longer than a skeleton, but when the last person who remembers us dies, we will dissolve in time with him.

photo?Who still takes photos now?

Who will keep the photo of the person who took the photo?

In the past, there were many yellowed old photos in every family's thick family photo album, but few people who looked through the photo album were very sure which one in the photo was their ancestor.

Perhaps the photographs were to the dead a mask taken from their bodies after death, not plaster casts of them copied while they were alive.

In these photos, the voices and smiles of the dead will always rot slower than those remembered in the hearts of the living.

But what is left?

"children?"

Homer lightly touched the flame in the candle with his finger.

He was a lonely bachelor who had thought about it, and Ahmet's words still stung him.

He is doomed to have no sons and no daughters, and it is no longer possible to reproduce his offspring,

He picked up his pen again.

"Their appearance resembles us a little. There are shadows of us in their lines, and their faces magically blend the features of us and our loved ones.

We can see ourselves in their gestures, in the arch of their eyebrows, in their moving grimaces.Friends will tell us that our sons and daughters are made in the same mold as we are.

This may be telling us that when our eyes are closed and our hearts stop beating, our children will continue our lives. "

But each of us does not exist as we are, and our children are replicas of who we are.

The way we exist is like a chimera, each of us is made up of what our parents look like and what our parents are like inside, half of us comes from our mother and half from our father.

In fact, there are no unique characteristics in us, all we have are countless random mosaic pieces.

Each piece is unique, and millions of pieces are randomly put together to form a puzzle with no special value before us.

Should we be proud when we see our own hooked noses and dimples on the faces of our children?

Although in this world, such noses and dimples have appeared on the faces of countless people in the long history of mankind?
"Behind us, what have we left for this world?"

Homer had to live more seriously than anyone else.

There are those whose beliefs teach them to place their hope in an afterlife, and Homer is genuinely jealous of them.

And when he himself heard people talking about the afterlife, his thoughts immediately turned to Nasimov Street.

Perhaps Homer is not only made of flesh that the corpse-eaters refuse to swallow, but Homer has something else besides the flesh, but this kind of thing cannot exist without the flesh and blood.

"What did the kings of Egypt leave after their death? What did the heroes of Greece leave behind? What did the artists of the Renaissance leave behind? What did they leave, or did they leave behind themselves? still alive in the things?"

"What else can humans leave to live forever?"

Homer re-read what he had written, considered it carefully, then carefully tore out the pages from the notebook, crumpled them up and put them on an iron plate, and set them on fire.

After 1 minute passed, the three hours of writing was reduced to a handful of ashes.
-
She is dead.

Sasha always imagined the scene of her own death: the last ray of light from the world goes out, everything is dark, leaving only eternal darkness.

Darkness and silence, from which human beings are born, and everyone will inevitably return to this place.

Sasha had heard stories about heaven and hell, and she had no regrets about going to hell.

The eternal darkness, the silent world, and the constant idleness are more terrifying to her than a pan full of boiling oil.

Then there will be tiny flickering flames in the distance ahead.

Sasha moved slowly towards that position, but she couldn't touch the flame: it was a flying firefly, it flew away first, then approached Sasha, as if trying to tease her, and then abandoned her. , Playing her between applause.

She knew it was just a flame in the tunnel.

Her father once told her that when a person dies in the subway, his soul will wander in an empty tunnel that never dawns, and every such soul will end up in a dead end.

The soul just doesn't understand that it doesn't have to be bound in any body anymore, its worldly life is over.

Before seeing the flames of the phantom bonfire, the soul had to continue wandering.

Once you see the flame, float toward it recklessly, because that flame was sent to meet this soul.

The flame moves aside to bring the soul to a place where it can find peace.

(End of this chapter)