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No One Gets Out Alive
They arrived in ships.
By Colleen Anderson
Artwork by Lanceleee
11.12.25

They arrived in ships, and calmly watched

black opal eyes, faces unreadable

with those lipless mouths

mottled flesh of rainbow hues

Choose how you will die

Suspicions first rippled our ranks

but They said They’d grant the wish

of our already foretold destinies

It made no sense, the lack of demands

no slaves, mined resources, no probing

or mass extinction, no abductions

universal gifts of tongues or transportation

Just this—the means of our demise

They knew time and place of each person’s last days

no amount of running or bargaining

could persuade Them to change it

Always a few of Them attended the fated’s end date

pulsing colors in gentle patterns

We took up the spirit of the game

this odd invasion to live our lives

it didn’t matter, so we thought

it wouldn’t be now

only the ordained hour of our passing

coordinated by extra-terrestrial voyeurs

Those who first accepted

shrugged and asked for painless death

and loved ones to see them on

to never die alone

As time’s pendulum ticked on

people began to test imagination’s boundaries—

trampled by elephants

bungy jumping over ravenous sharks

skydiving naked into cake

but always with the same caveat

let us die painless, passed out, asleep, at peace…

They always complied

onyx eyes emotionless

head flaps imperceptibly vibrating

yet Their fluorescing skin told us something

Some people took it as a challenge

swallowing diamonds

elaborate banquets of neon treefrogs

hearing the word of God

viewing paradise on earth

Every person received their orchestrated event

deaths becoming so intricate

that enacted laws forbade endangering

humans, structures, environment

or at-risk species

Each passing became the next great spectacle

a way to mark one’s exit

as if lives had been for naught

Grammy winners

nearly extinct royalty

and famous recluses

were roped into exit performances

Were they eight or eighty-five

there were those who requested

gold-spun spires

filigreed glass crypts

scaffolds of lace

boats woven of hair

all for a remembered death

and no inheritance left for the relatives

They fluoresced ever more brightly

so that the extinguations were seen from space

sparks no matter how unique

all being snuffed at their end

After two–plus centuries

They left as suddenly as They arrived

It took a while to realize

our exits might go unremarked

A generational shift took place

after the last death-escapade had passed

We returned to living each day toward life

enjoying time with cherished family

strolling through nature’s verdant canvas

We no longer dwell on contemplations

of where They have gone

or on how some day we all must leave