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Some time ago, a woman demanded of a group of people, which included me, that we provide good reasons why life is worth living. Otherwise she was going to terminate us.

I thought to myself: "This is the very question that I've struggled with for so long and now I am being forced to provide a definitive answer. Do I make up some fancy reason and thus escape with my life? But if I lie, then my life is not really worth pursuing."

In the distance, I saw several people getting finished off - obviously their answers weren't good enough.

It was now my turn. I came in and faced the interrogator. She spoke with a voice devoid of any tone, commanding me to present my case.

"Life is hard, really hard sometimes", I recall replying to her, "and a lot of times I don't want to go on struggling against the unyielding, overpowering forces, and yet I want to continue living. That is all I can say. I want to live."

The interrogator gazed at me with an empty look, a look that was lacking any human expression, deciding on her answer.

Just as she was about to make her pronouncement, I woke up.

Boris Glikman

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