Am I a good person? Deep down, do I even really want to be a good person, or do I only want to seem like a good person so that people (including myself) will approve of me? Is there a difference? How do I ever actually know whether I’m bullshitting myself, morally speaking?
…and suddenly it occurred to him that the birds, whose twitters and repeated songs sounded so pretty and affirming of nature and the coming day, might actually, in a code known only to other birds, be the birds each saying ‘Get away’ or ‘This branch is mine!’ or ‘This tree is mine! I’ll kill you! Kill, kill!’ Or any other manner of dark, brutal, or self-protective stuff—they might be listening to war cries. The thought came from nowhere and made his spirits dip for some reason.
It’s about the end of the world with aliens or whatever. Less about the aliens than humanity though. We’ve accepted Jeff Goldblum and the president aren’t going to save us and we’re all going to die. So it’s not about saving the world, it’s about people accepting the end of the world.
There’s tons of aspects to go with too. Less one coherent story than a series of short stories about people coping with the end. Some people who are alone when the aliens show up start praying, some start crying, some try to call loved ones, some run, some try to fight but are obliterated by alien lasers or whatever. Some people who are with family members flee while others hold their family close in a show of love and desire to perish with someone cherished.
The story of course not being about the end of the world so much as death and different ways people handle it.