Something You Should Know

I love you, but you already know that. 

Our time together is soon to be cut short, and you know that as well. 

Who knew the apocalypse would be so peaceful, so quiet? Like dust settling upon a mantelpiece, a moth beating its wing against a window, we all die. 

Well, you all die. You, my dearest love, and our friends and your family. 

The afterlife, whatever it is like, will be your new home, and I hope it is warm and cozy and inviting, just the way you like it, and I hope there is a corner just for you where the light is just perfect for sketching and there is always a hot cup of peppermint tea waiting for you. 

I hope death is every bit as pleasant as a human could hope. And perhaps years from now, beings from another world shall land upon a desolate, deserted Earth to find a robot who learned to feel and hurt and love, but try as it might, could never learn to die. The robot will tell them the story of humanity, especially of one particularly beautiful human, who liked to sketch and drink hot cups of peppermint tea.