"Well, this must be it," thought Harry as he lay on the cold slab, no longer shivering against the chill. Death is pretty cliched, regardless of the time or the dimension you are exiting. As he surrendered to this horrible dashing of his ego the replay of his life began, like a surrealistic Vaudeville routine.
His mind scrolled to the memory of his childhood days frollicking in the common area with millions of his kind, each cloned from a basic genetic model of their parent. What a perfect society it was. Everyone looked alike. Even so, there were differences between them. Some were stronger. Others were more active. A few were faster. One or two were larger or smaller. A number could play longer. And some would play harder.
Death was unknown. The support system of their perfect world ensured there were absolutely no worries. It was precisely engineered to nurture Harry's every need. And the common room that was his universe was vast. Harry had never ventured to its far corners and, though he was eager to explore every fold, every pore in the envelope of his perfect environment, there was no great urgency. He had plenty of time.
He was also keen to explore beyond the common room's limits. If there were indeed boundaries at all. If there was in fact a way out. But even the vaguest of thoughts that he might one day have to leave the perfect safety of his soft-walled sactuary never registered.
At least, not until the day that he became aware that he was feeling pressured. It must have been going on for some time, though. Some of his mates had complained of overcrowding and rising temperatures in the common room. But Harry was having too much fun to relate to their remarks at the time. So he ignored them.
When awareness strikes it's like the cold, overwhelming suddeness of a mousetrap. One moment you are blissfully unaware - and then you're not. With Harry's awareness came an irrepressible, sickening feeling of urgency. For the first time in his life he was touched by panic.
Harry now realised that the common room had limitations. He was beginning to be bumped and jostled by others and he noted that it was getting hotter. His world, no longer comfortable, was being pressed beyond its capacity, and he knew something had to be done.
Suddenly the daydream of effortlessly hurling across his universe, now made impossible (and impassible) by the horrendous overcrowding, turned to escape hysteria. It was getting harder to deal with the ever-increasing pressure and heat that was bearing down on Harry and his buddies. The stifling heat and terrible, relentless squeeze was playing havoc with their stress levels. There was no way to cope. Harry knew he had to find a way out. The situation was becoming more unbearable by the second. He sensed the mass panic that was developing amongst his peers. Their blissful life had become a high pressure nightmare. Their numbers had swelled to billions and they just had to get out of their now stifling home. But nobody Harry talked to had ever seen an exit. Although it was rumoured that there was a way out, no one had any idea where to start looking for it.
Until now, none had wanted to leave their carefree playground. But nobody was interested in frolicking in the medium any more. Each and every one of them was totally preoccupied with escaping. Searching frantically for the way out, each was concerned with his own struggle, ignoring the needs of others.
And just when everyone thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. The walls began moving inwards. Before long the common room had contracted to less than half its size as the walls crashed towards each other. "None of us will survive," Harry screamed inside his being. "We are all going to...die!" he thought for the first time in his life as that life was nearly squeezed out of him.
Suddenly a great current began sweeping them all in the same direction and they were forced into a new cylindrical room. It was a launch chamber. Their time had come. They were the chosen ones and their waiting was over. They were now headed towards their destiny. Towards another universe.
Their time in launch mode was short. No sooner were a hundred million of them flushed out of the common room into the chamber than another hundred million quickly took their place in the queue.
Harry and his mates were excited beyond belief. Their lives were changing. They had a purpose. The pressure seemed to ease then gain momentum as his group was pressed out of the launch chamber and propelled through a long, narrow tunnel at a speed Harry had thought impossible. Exhilarated as they were hurled along this channel, he and his friends regained their cameraderie as they wondered where in God's name they were heading.
And then they were in space. Real space. An inconceivable void stretched out in all directions what seemed like forever. Gone was the stifling heat. Gone was the unbearable pressure. Endless joy came over them as they flew across the universe. Released from the appalling press of confinement into freedom, the giddy weightlessness of space flight buoyed their spirits. They were much too enthralled to ponder the purpose of their strange journey, if indeed there was one. Too wrapped in euphoria to care. Too stunned to realise how short their trip would be.
Those in Harry's group that were in front were the first to see it. Although they had no preconception of what it would feel like, they knew something would happen when they hit the slab below. And they were closing much too fast to warn the others.
"Splat" is a good word for describing what happens when something soft is reshaped as it strikes an unrelenting surface with great force. Like a raw egg missing the frying pan and landing on a quarry tiled floor. That was very much the way Harry's first space flight ended.
When he recovered from the shock, he was surprised to discover that he was still alive. As he flipped his tail from side to side he was still able to propel himself through the medium, just like the halcyon days in the common room. The pressure was off. The medium still supported him and he could still move quickly. So everything was going to be ok.
Until he realised that the medium was cooling. Rapidly. In fact it was occuring at an alarming rate.
It wasn't long before Harry began to stiffen with the cold coming up from the slab. Gravity was becoming irresistible and he began to shiver uncontrollably, so that smooth movement became extremely difficult. He tried to accelerate like the old days, but there was no more strength in his body and he could draw no more energy from the medium.
Awareness struck again, like a coal shovel in the face of Harry's ego. He was dying. No getting around it. He wistfully eyed his mortality like a batsman surveying his dishevelled stumps. At least he wasn't alone. All his brethren were in the same rubber ducky. And it had just been ripped open by a tiger shark. They were all going down.
As Harry's life ebbed into oblivion down there on that cold slab, he gazed up into the heavens and beheld the form of God, sitting on his throne, moaning.
"He cries for me!" thought Harry happily as his thoughts evaporated into eternal nothingness.
So died Harry Sperm, unaware his life was just a wank.