Topic: If you where told that you have just seven days to Live? (Read 134 times)

If I only have 7 days left I think I will do all things that make me happy especially all favorite hobbies. Playing any kind of gambling is one of my favorite hobbies and I think if I only have 7 days I will use the half of my money in playing gambling and once i won I will give it to my families.

I will stay with my family and bond with them , i will also do something that makes me happy like playin in a gambling site because i really love playing casino games like poker ,roulette and etc. and of course for the last seven days you are wishing to have long life.

What will you do if you where told that seven days on earth is all you gat?

How will you behave?
what will be your last act on earth?
will you have regrets?
are there things you will have wished you did?
will you be ok with death now?

Share what you will do if you have only 7 days more?

I probably wouldn’t do anything special

What will you do if you where told that seven days on earth is all you gat?

How will you behave?
what will be your last act on earth?
will you have regrets?
are there things you will have wished you did?
will you be ok with death now?

Share what you will do if you have only 7 days more?

What will you do if you where told that seven days on earth is all you gat?

How will you behave?
what will be your last act on earth?
will you have regrets?
are there things you will have wished you did?
will you be ok with death now?

Share what you will do if you have only 7 days more?

During  the  night,  Sim  was  born.  He  lay  wailing  upon  the  cold  cave  stones.  His blood beat through him a thousand pulses each minute. He grew, steadily.

Into  his  mouth  his  mother  with  feverish  hands put  the  food.  The  nightmare  of living was begun. Almost instantly at birth his eyes grew alert, and then, without half understanding  why,  filled  with  bright,  insistent  terror.  He  gagged  upon  the  food, choked and wailed. He looked about, blindly.

There was a thick fog. It cleared. The outlines of the cave appeared. And a man loomed up, insane and wild and terrible. A man with a dying face. Old, withered by winds,  baked  like  adobe  in  the  heat.  The  man  was  crouched  in  a  far  corner  of  the cave, his eyes whitening to one side of his face, listening to the far wind trumpeting up above on the frozen night planet.

Sim's mother, trembling now and again, staring at the man, fed Sim pebble-fruits, valley-grasses   and   ice-nipples   broken   from   the   cavern   entrances,   and   eating, eliminating, eating again, he grew larger, larger.

The  man  in  the  corner  of  the  cave  was  his  father!  The  man's  eyes  were  all  that was alive in his face. He held a crude stone dagger in his withered hands and his jaw hung loose and senseless.

Then, with a widening focus, Sim saw the old people sitting in the tunnel beyond this living quarter. And as he watched, they began to die.

...

The old man spat tiredly, bitterly, and looked vacantly into the stone crib, at the little girl. "One eighth of her life's over, already," he gasped. "And she doesn't know it. What's the use?"