The Meaning Of Life

• Tahlia Whitten, Grade 10, University High School
• Short Story
• 2015

2nd in the 'The Write Track 2015' competition

“Momma?”
Squinting up at her mother, the young girl gently tugged at her mother’s sleeve for extra attention. This was an important question, after all.
The woman looked over to her daughter, a calm smile on her lips as strands of hair were blown across her face from the breeze loitering about the park.
“What’s up, sweetie?”
The little girl released her mother’s sleeve, bit her lip and looked down into her lap thoughtfully for a few moments. Just as her mother was about to ask if she’d forgotten it, the young girl piqued up.
“What’s the meaning of life?!”
The woman raised an eyebrow, partly surprised at the magnitude of what her seven year-old was asking her, partly suspicious of where she’d gotten such an idea into her head. To the young girl, it looked like her mother had just turned to enjoy the breeze for a few seconds more, but the woman was actually tossing up between answers. Deciding not to admonish her daughter for curious thinking, the woman turned to face the young girl, the reassuring smile back.
“To keep looking up.” Satisfied with the way her daughter’s nose scrunched up in confusion, the woman turned her face to the warm wind once again. “That’s the secret.”
After eating another cracker from the basket the two had brought with them, the girl turned back to her mother, prepared to inquire more. But upon seeing her mother’s calm expression as she stared into the sky, the girl chose against it.
But it was such a weird answer. It wasn’t even a proper answer, really; she’d asked the meaning of life, and her mother had replied with the secret to life. Perhaps it was a test, a riddle.
More determined than before, the girl began to examine her question and her mother’s answer. Look up.
Squinting again, the girl looked up, into the vast expanse that was the sky, feeling her retinas pinch at the sudden panorama.
Well, she thought, it’s blue. It’s big. I know there’s stars…? Somewhere. There’s the sun, and later there’ll be the moon.
That was really all her youthful brain could conjure.
Keep looking, a voice incited. So she kept looking.
Hmm, life, sky. She wondered.
All of the sky is blue. Life… Life can be blue? No, that’s not it. Life… Is also all one colour, or, picture.
That sounded good. The girl mentally gave herself a high—five. Then rescinded it.
What about sunset? And rise?
Ok, so, life is usually all one colour, but at times it can be extra one colour or another.
Sure, that’ll work.
But what about night?
Hmm, night’s pretty dark. And a little scary.
So sometimes life can be extra scary, or bad, for a long time, but… The stars.
If you look, even in the long, scary times, there’s sparks of light.
Satisfied with her answer, the girl leaned back, letting her eyes go hazy at the surplus of colour.
Keep looking up.