A brief bit of nonsense
At the end of the world, there is a place.
It's not a real place, not anymore. It used to be a real gas station, perhaps, or a truck stop. It's hard to tell now, and it doesn't matter much anyway. Maybe it used to be a diner; that would make sense, given that it serves food and has a waitress to take your order. But she's not real, not any more than the road outside, nor the purple sunset blazing across the horizon, translucent and unreal like a postcard left too long in the gift shop while the rest of the world moved on.
It's that kind of place.
Occasionally a visitor arrives. They might be wearing a big brimmed fedora, or a cowboy hat, or maybe a business suit. Business suits are more common these days, here at the end of the world. The sorts of folks that wear business suits are more likely to wind up abandoned, empty, so devoid of content that the ground opens up and the sky swallows them because nature adhores a vacuum, and the void doesn't like competition in the staring department. Lots of business suits in the place that isn't real at the end of the world. They don't stay long. The waitress doesn't ask their names, because they don't have any.
The sorts of people who have names don't end up swallowed by the sky.
Lodged between might-have-beens and must-never-bes, the cafe (or gas station - the hot dogs have been spinning on the rack long enough that a real cafe would be ashamed to serve them. But that's ok, it isn't real) has a single flickering light in the ceiling. Or it would, if it were real. The light is certainly real, the most real thing in the place. Cowboy hats and business suits like to stare at it. It remind them, maybe, of what they aren't. Bright and cheerful. You can almost forget this place isn't real, while it's lit. But when it flickers...! Then you can see that this is the end of the world. That this place isn't real. That the waitress is the burning sunset across the horizon, purple fading glory of a burned god who tried to devour the... That's only when the light flickers though. Most of the time she seems more real than gods are, and most of the time she just wants to know if you'd like more coffee. The coffee is bitter.
There's no sugar at the end of the world.
I don't know what this is, but it wanted out of my head and onto the page. There you go.