The Next Great Adventure

A man talks with Death while travelling to his next life.

He didn’t protest when it happened. He didn’t panic, or even try to resist. Without so much sound as a heartbeat, he slipped away, lifted upward by the invisible pull of my arms. I carried him up towards the roof, then paused, looking down on the scene below. He was laid on his side, facing the middle of the bed. On the other half of the bed lay a woman facing the same direction, sound asleep. Her hair was in a messy bun. The room was illuminated by the first haze of morning light, not yet bright enough to make out the expression on the man’s face

“Is that me?” the man asked. He was neither upset nor sad, instead he spoke with the curiosity of a first grader.

“Yes, that is you.” I replied in a soft tone. He was puzzled. They usually are at first.

“Julie; can she hear me?” He motioned towards the woman asleep next to his body. The rise and fall of her chest was a sharp contrast to the stillness of his. I assumed Julie was his wife.

“No, she cannot hear you or me.” I could tell my words made the man sad. He remained silent for a number of minutes.

“Is this a dream?” He asked, though I could tell by his quivering voice he already knew the answer.

“No, you are dead.” I respond, neither warmly nor harshly. This was a conversation that I had recited millions of times. Again, he processes my words quietly, this time longer than the last. The room had grown brighter since I had entered. It was now possible to make out the individual hairs spread sparsely over the man’s head, like white fuzz on a dandelion. I knew that I had to leave soon; else the man would  watch his wife discover his dead body. Not that I would mind; it was just that causing pain wasn't my job. The humans do a good enough job of that by themselves. It’s kind of sad, actually. Giving the man one last glance around the room, I exit through the roof, holding the man in my arms.

“Where are we going? What happens now?” The man asks. “Will I see Julie again?” He was scared. We were above his home, looking out over the suburb. A gray minivan sat in his driveway. A full family of stick figure stickers, complete with a dog, lined the bottom of the rear window, on the drivers side.

“Now I take you somewhere else, you will live there for your next life” I said. We soared upwards until we were far above the clouds. From above, they looked like the froth of an ocean wave. In the distance stood a single black speck, we moved towards it. As we drew closer, the spec grew into a small platform in the sky. A door rested at the top of a small flight of stone steps, stretching off the side of the platform. I set him down the base of the steps. Using his sleeve, he wiped the moisture from the clouds off his face. He looked from the door, to me, and back to the door. It wasn’t anything grand. Instead, it was a modest wooden door. The handle was curved and brass, worn down after years of use. 

“Knock three times and it will open” I said “A good friend of mine will take care of you from there”

“Is this Heaven?” the man asked, incredulous. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, there is no such thing as Heaven” I said, regretting my frank tone. In a much kinder voice I explained: “beyond this door is merely another world, quite like this one actually. There are some differences, but you will grow to like it, I promise. And after you have had your time in this world,  you will move on to the next, and the next.” One day you might even come back here. Everything you had here, I promise you will have the same opportunities there too.”

I could tell the man was bursting with questions, but he withheld all but one: 

“What’s it like?”

“I guess that’s up to you”

Author's Note

I'm pretty new to writing, but any comments are appreciated; positive or negative. Especially negative, I want to get better. (:

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

Aw, I'm a little disappointed that the stairway isn't the stairway to heaven, nor the door to heaven. But I do like the end, the idea that it is all up to us. The only drawback I found was the minivan in the driveway. It distracted me, thinking it might have something to do with the man's journey, and it turned to have no real bearing on the story. I have been told that in writing everything should have a purpose. (I have been told this numerous times, because I have a bad habit of including extraneous things.) Otherwise, good job. I hope you keep posting.

[ColinKp]

Thanks for your review! I see what you mean about the minivan, I'm thinking about editing a few details like that in the future. Much appreciated!

[bookishmuggle]

I like it! I guess the only thing I'm confused on is the identity of the narrator. Is it Death? God? An angel? If you want to keep that a secret that's fine but I think if you clarify who they are it might add something to the story.