The Sterile Demise of Silas Crumble

Silas Crumble was not just a germaphobe; he was an epidemiologist of his own existence, meticulously charting the microscopic threats to his precious mortality. For 87 years, Silas lived in a self-constructed, hermetically sealed apartment, a fortress against the common cold, the flu, and the occasional rogue dust mite with questionable intentions. His diet consisted solely of nutrient paste, administered via a sanitized tube directly into his mouth, bypassing the perilous bacterial landscape of cutlery. He emerged from his sanctuary only twice a month, encased in a full-body prophylactic suit, to purchase more paste and medical-grade disinfectant. He was convinced he would outlive us all, a pristine monument to human vigilance, expiring peacefully in his sleep at 120, having never encountered a single pathogen.

Then came Tuesday.

Silas was meticulously cleaning a microscopic smudge off his already spotless air filtration unit, humming a tune he’d composed about the virtues of bleach. He noticed a faint tremor, dismissed it as his building's ancient plumbing, and returned to his vital task. Moments later, with a groan that seemed less structural and more existential, the main support beam above his immaculate nutrient paste dispenser gave way.

It wasn't a superbug, a rogue virus, or even a particularly aggressive mold spore. It was a purely physical, rather large, untreated piece of pine, a structural component he'd personally installed when he built his "clean room" apartment decades ago. In his feverish focus on microscopic threats, Silas had rather thoroughly neglected the macroscopic ones, like, say, gravity, or proper load-bearing calculations.

His death certificate, to the eternal amusement of the paramedics who had to don hazmat suits just to enter, listed the cause as "Blunt Force Trauma from Falling Debris." Not a single germ implicated. The ultimate irony, perhaps, was that the piece of wood that finally did him in had probably been teeming with harmless, natural bacteria for decades.