The Universe opened the door, walked into the small room, and closed the door. It adjusted its lab coat.

"Hello. I'm very sorry for the wait. We really had today overbooked, we're already an hour behind. Always more moral patients popping up, you know how it is these days." It walked over to the table and computer in one corner of the room and started typing something.

Humankind, sitting on the examination table: "Oh, that's alright, I was late anyways."

The Universe nodded but didn't respond, still typing. It finished up and wheeled its chair over to the exam table, clipboard in hand. "Okay Haman.. sorry, let me see here.. Humankind, what seems to be the problem today? I see from your records you've had a sustained trend of brain size increase over the last 0.5 hyperfine hydrogen transition half li- oh, sorry, the last 5 million of your winters. That typically causes quite a few changes that are all very normal and natural."

Humankind: "Well, maybe it's that, but I don't know. I just kind of have this bad feeling, I guess. I realized recently that when I die, I don't think anymore, it's like I just vanish into thin air. If one of me dies, the rest of me can never talk to that person again. Now I can't stop thinking about it even when I'm alive and everything is going well. When I die because a mammoth I was hunting stomps on me, or because I fall off a cliff, I can partly understand it, that's my fault. But sometimes I don't even do anything wrong. I die a lot when I'm giving birth, and sometimes it's both the mother and child! And if I survive that, I die a lot when I'm only a few winters old. I just turn some weird color and feel really hot and that's it, dead. So I've been thinking, there must be some place all those people go, right? Like maybe they're in the sky or ground or something like that? They can't just vanish, that doesn't make any sense."

The Universe, who had been looking at its clipboard, looked up and smiled warmly at Humankind. "What do you think happens to all the rabbits and mammoths and antelopes when they die, or when you kill and eat them? Don't you think their bones look just the same as your bones?"

Humankind contemplated this for a moment. "I guess they do look the same, but why does that matter?"

The Universe: "Don't you think the same thing would happen to you and to all the other animals, after you die?"

Humankind shot a quizzical look at the Universe. "Maybe my bones look the same as other animals. But I'm still so different from any of them, right? I mean, they don't even build huts or make sharp sticks or anything. So why would it matter what happens to them?"

The Universe still smiled, but now with a tinge of sadness in its eyes. "Humankind, I'm going to tell you something and you might not understand it for a long time and that's okay, but I want you to remember what I say. You have your talents, but you are the same as all the other animals, the fish and the spiders and the whales all. In fact, they're your cousins, uncles, siblings. And I'm sorry to tell you this, but none of you go anywhere when you die. You just stop existing. I know it can be really hard to believe."

Humankind had a look of disbelief and dejection, but the Universe continued: "However, your talents do make you special, in a way. With technology, you can--"

Humankind interrupted: "What's technology?"

The Universe: "Oh, sorry, I should have explained that. You know how, if you're smart about it, you can make sticks sharper with rocks? Or sharp rocks by banging two together? Or how you can add a handle to rocks if you tie a stick to them?"

Humankind thought about this for a moment, then seemed to brighten up. "Oh, okay, yeah. And also that bright, hot orange stuff that eats wood and makes food taste better? Things sucked before I figured that one out."

The Universe: "Yes, exactly! Well, the smarter you are, the more technology you can figure out, if you think really hard about it. And if you have enough technology, you can prevent mothers from dying when they give birth, and prevent the children from dying of sickness. Eventually, you can make it so no one has to die unless they want to. You won't even have to kill the other animals anymore, and you can make them live forever too, if you want. You can do anything."

Humankind: "Great! That sounds like exactly what I need. So is there just some special way I have to tie sticks together, or something like that?"

The Universe: "Well.. Not exactly. It's a bit more complicated than that. It might take you many winters to figure out, or you might never figure it out at all. But out of all the animals, it's you that has the best shot to get there eventually."

A look of dejection had gradually returned to Humankind's face. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime? You're telling me I have to learn to live knowing I could die at any moment? That can't be right. Can't you just give me some pills or something?"

The Universe, still with the same sadness-tinged smile: "I'm afraid that's exactly what I'm telling you."

Humankind, now looking somewhat angry and with crossed arms, hesitated for a bit, waiting for the Universe to say more, but it did not. "This is ridiculous. Let me speak to your manager, or whoever's in charge here."

The Universe spread its arms and shrugged. "Unfortunately, I own the practice."

Humankind glared at the Universe for a second, then jumped off the table, walked to the door and opened it, then hesitated. "You think you know everything. I'm trying that stick thing and we're going to see who's right." Then stormed out.

The Universe stuck its head out of the door and called after Humankind: "Try it, maybe it will help, but remember what I said!" Humankind didn't look back.

Post-Appointment Report
Everyone seems to come in for this same problem eventually, and I always hate it. I haven't gotten them to listen to me a single time! At least they almost always remember what I tell them, given enough time. Hopefully that's the case here. Till then, Humankind.