The author, whether they intended to or not, created a life with value.
Without pen touching the impossible paper of creation.
He lived.
For only a moment.
Enough that he smiled.
One must imagine Groknag happy.
Groknag stood there and held his head.
He had lived a challenging life.
Now, torn away from his mortality. From his very right of existence by his creator.
The author whom would abandon their pen.
me [reading a book]: why are you not impressed this is like magic for you
groknag the caveman: me read in new cave times that it derivative and trite
me: …well you’re just made up for a joke. when someone finishes reading it you’ll cease to exist
groknag: me not want die
He would have been unloved... not by family, or friends, for they didn't exist.
Instead, he would be unloved, for wanting to live.
The empathy that one could feel for Groknag to bring him another instant of existence...
It was enough.