On the Edge of the World

Her legs are the boundaries of the world itself, her face is no longer visible at all, and now it's clear that the world will end in a very embarrassing connection between the two legs

If only she had covered them with a dress (Source)

A woman stands at the end of the world, and spiders weave webs between her legs. It's clear she hasn't closed them for a long time. The wise men say: If only she had covered them with a dress. But the end of the world is approaching, and who still listens to the wise? One wise man, moments before the world's end, sits and explains that the woman needs to give birth. That's why she doesn't close her legs. A second wise man argues the opposite, something needs to enter. As we approach the end of the world, the woman's two legs stretch beyond the horizon, and it's no longer possible to know how far they reach. Some wise men claim that her legs are the boundaries of the world itself, her face is no longer visible at all, and now it's clear that the world will end in a very embarrassing connection between the two legs.

The wise men close their eyes. Those who are less wise put their hands over others' eyes and peek themselves, as curiosity overcomes fear. But in the end, fear prevails, and even the most base people close their eyes. The unmistakable smell intensifies, to everyone's embarrassment, and now one can feel that a special heat is emanating from the end of the world. Many remember ovens, furnaces, the many holocausts that have passed, but the heat actually reminds one of body heat. Yet many wise men tremble. A cry is heard: What has God planned for us? Holocaust or redemption - both are far more logical than this end.

It would be one thing if it were the heat of hell or the vegetation of Eden, but here everything begins to fill with hair. And a giant mouth - now enormously larger than the entire world - gapes at an impossible height, at an utterly imaginary depth, but almost closed to a thin line in width. Lips kiss each other hermetically.

At first, the wise men fear she will swallow them and don't dare to approach. In subsequent generations, they try to penetrate inside. Initially with gentle fingers or feathers or threads, and later with fingernails, sharpened pencils, and needles. Nothing passes through, except thin pages. And on these, the wise men begin to write requests, or poems to impress the woman, and there are also wicked ones who insert mere grocery lists, or others who push in the most terrible secrets and the most personal things in hope that this is what will open her.

This matter, it must be admitted, is ultimately quite rash. Because no one knows what's on the other side. Or what might suddenly be born from all this writing, whose recipient could be very different from what we thought. There are also those who push in jokes aimed at making the woman laugh until the gates shake and open, or banknotes to bribe her, or those who think she only understands threats. In the end - after tearing out entire prayer books page by page and pushing them inside, whole libraries, including encyclopedias, and the entire human race, even the wisest, has nothing left to innovate for the woman - everyone sits and waits endlessly. And this is the end of the world.