The Forty Five Minute Countdown

7.15 am in the morning. Forty five minutes to the start of finals week. A sleepless night. 6 hours of exams consecutively, beginning when the minute hand strikes twelve.

I feel like writing.

I recently read a book. Its title: Stardust. Quite literally, a boy chases a fallen star to a faerie realm. Eventually he finds the object of his desire, captures it, and, inexplicably, he falls in love with her. Because this is no ordinary world, it is a world where stars are immortal beings shining in the nightsky, and if they are ever unfortunate enough to fall down to the mortal realm, they can never return. Of course, the boy doesn't quite realise that he's fallen in love, until closer to the end of the story, after going through numerous ordeals and adventures with his captive. It could have been a perfect ending. It was almost a perfect ending.

The story goes on, and ends like this: the boy grew into manhood and became king of the faerie realm, and he ruled wisely to his death. The star never aged, and she lived on, alone and, well, lonely.

How strange, that a feel-good story ended not quite the way that I anticipated. In some ways, I understand the author's intentions. This is, after all, a fairy tale, and some fairy tale endings do end with a finality that makes it hard to accept. They end, with a capital E. Death is not a stranger, it is a given. Live forever after? Maybe for another fairy tale, for another time.

I can't help but be saddened when characters in stories I love die. Can't authors understand, that the best ending, is one where the characters don't die? Even when the story ends, the characters live on in my imagination, immortal and free. Never alone. Never lonely.

I started thinking about what would make a really good story. I started thinking about what would happen in today's modern world, if a group of people were to be blessed (cursed?) with immortality. Unable to die, what actions would they take? Would they exploit their status, or use it to achieve something great? Would they, in watching the folly of mankind, as generations and more generations pass, become wiser than anybody else who has ever lived? Can they unravel the secret of God? Can intelligence and knowledge grow without limit, if given enough time and motivation? Will the general populace accept them as living miracles or will they be made to suffer by public condemnation?

My feeling is that, eventually, these people will achieve a status that nobody living can even begin to aspire to achieve. When this happens, it is only a matter of time, before they rule the world.