(On a sunny summer afternoon, Friend 1 and Friend 2 lounge in patio chairs in Friend 2’s backyard, facing the lawn and staring through sunglasses at nothing in particular)
Friend 1: (To Friend 2 as both still face forward) You know, sometimes I miss having a backyard.
Friend 2: Yeah?
Friend 1: I mean, I grew up with one at my parents’ house, and I love my apartment now, but sometimes I miss having a bit of outdoor space to do nothing in, without having to walk or drive somewhere else and share it with strangers. I never realized at the time what it luxury it was; it was always just… there.
Friend 2: Yeah…. Can be a pain in the neck to mow, though.
Friend 1: Oh, definitely – you can keep it. (A cell phone alert goes off; Friend 1 takes the phone out of a pants pocket and navigates to the alert)
Friend 2: Everything OK?
Friend 1: (Still tapping buttons) Oh yeah, it’s just one of those “On this day, such-and-such years ago” – wonder what it is this time?
Friend 2: Eh, probably a photo you’ll immediately want to delete.
Friend 1: No such photo exists: I live a blameless online life. (Stares at the screen for a few moments) Hmmmmmm….
Friend 2: So, what is it?
Friend 1: (With brows furrowed in puzzlement) A picture from senior year in high school, twentyyyyyyy… (Lifts up sunglasses briefly to squint at the screen) five years ago.
Friend 2: Heh-heh, yeah, I suppose it would be that long ago. Mildly depressing, but I can’t really bring myself to care right now. (Sips some lemonade)
Friend 1: (Still looking confused, holds the phone up to Friend 2) Do you remember this?
Friend 2: (Also briefly lifts up sunglasses to squint at the screen) I remember some of the people in it; is that a diner? We always went to one after games and rehearsals and whatever.
Friend 1: (Brings the phone back to stare at the photo again) I didn’t always go – I only went a few times.
Friend 2: Oh. Sorry. You were always around back then so I figured you were always at those things too, but now I remember you weren’t. Different crowds, I guess.
Friend 1: It’s OK, it’s just… why don’t I remember this?
Friend 2: I dunno – old age?
Friend 1: But any other photo, I remember something about what was happening – I don’t remember this at all. It’s almost like I’m looking at a stranger.
Friend 2: Sure it’s you, then? Sometimes these sites tag the wrong people and start up a whole world of trouble.
Friend 1: Oh no, it’s me all right, and those’re people I hung around with, and you’re there too, but the actual event is blank.
Friend 2: Well, get used to it: I’m sure it’ll happen more and more often as we travel onward through the fourth dimension that is time, losing all ou irreplaceable brain cells on the way. Can’t be helped.
Friend 1: (Turns off the phone’s display, slips the phone back into the pocket, and leans back in the chair) I guess. I would say I’m too young for that to happen yet, but that’s a lie. In less than 10 years, we’ll be half a century old, can you believe it?
Friend 2: (Mildly, with a smile) Hush your mouth.
Friend 1: Half a century. I might’ve lived more than half my life already, and I won’t even know for certain until right before it’s over. Every second that goes by, we’re inching ever closer to our doom.
Friend 2: (Contentedly leaning back in the chair) Ahhhh, drama.
Friend 1: And it’s not only me, or you, or everyone else: our entire planet has an expiration date, did you know that?
Friend 2: More so every day.
Friend 1: And I’m not even talking about end-times weather and all that; I’m talking about our own Sun, our one and only star and source of our very existence, swallowing us up as it turns into a red giant and then one moment it, too, is no more.
Friend 2: Thankfully, we’ll be long gone before that even begins to happen.
Friend 1: Sure, we think everything out there’ll last forever, but nothing does. Nothing. One by one, everything ends, even the longest-existing piece of matter out there, from the beginning of the Big Bang or whatever or whoever it was started this whole mess. One far off, distant increment of time, it will all cease to be, breaking the First Law of Thermodynamics with impunity and no one around anymore to notice; even time will run down and sputter off into the nothing from which it came.
Friend 2: I think that’s called a paradox.
Friend 1: Not if time is just another thing in the universe that has a beginning and an inevitable, painful end.
Friend 2: But I thought time was more our perception of existence rather than a thing in and of itself?
Friend 1: Ha! That’s what they want you to think.
Friend 2: “They?”
Friend 1: Why else would the past 25 years have gone by with us barely noticing, but the first 10 years of our lives were as slow as anything and were so much better?
Friend 2: I think you’re missing a few years in there.
Friend 1: No one care about those. No, time is a hooligan: a sick, twisted scoundrel who plays with our hearts and fools around with our minds before greedily consuming them both.
Friend 2: (Sighs) Oh dear.
Friend 1: (Gestures at the early evening sky) I mean, take this for example.
Friend 2: (Stares at the sky for several moments) Mostly sunny, partly cloudy?
Friend 1: Well, that, but no: we’ve been sitting out here all afternoon, enjoying the summer day, but already evening is coming on, a minute earlier every rotation, and you can say it’s the Earth tilting on its axis away from the Sun for us here in the Up Over, while those lucky Down Under get an extra minute of daylight every winter day in exchange, but it’s really time, reminding us that the end of the year is nigh, and growth and light and life will soon be gone until the Earth remembers to tilt back again, ages from now.
Friend 2: It’s only the beginning of August.
Friend 1: And yet, night falls half an hour earlier than it did in June. The cycle continues, bringing us that much closer to our own, customized, THE END.
Friend 2: So: we have the luxury of sitting in private green space, enjoying the fresh air, enjoying the summer day – (Pointedly) enjoying each other’s company – and ignoring the ticking clock that’s been with us since birth and will be with us until… whenever.
Friend 1: (Sips some lemonade) I reckon that’s one way to look at it.
Friend 2: That’s the only way to look at it – your way drives us collectively bonkers.
Friend 1: …Yeah, I guess that’s not really time well spent.
Friend 2: (Turns to Friend 1) You know, you’re remarkably calm about one of your many existential crises, for a change.
Friend 1: (Turns to Friend 2) Well, sometimes, I exhaust even myself.