My late 80s haven’t been easy, not being able to do everything I love like I used to. It’s been a week since I haven’t been able to get out of bed, my wife helps me how she can, but it’s not easy:
-Come on old man, eat.
-Faith, I think I’m dying.
-Don’t say that.
Says Faith while she comes and kisses my forehead, she wears a beautiful emerald dress that goes very pretty with her grey hair and light green eyes.
-See you on the other side darling…I love you.
It’s a strange sensation, feeling your soul ripping out from your body, every centimeter of you body trying to keep your soul there, but the soul is stronger. I can see all the places I never saw, smell scents I never smelled, every single thing I missed, there are not so many and of that I am proud. I can see all the beautiful memories and the times I did something I loved. I can see Faith crying beside my bed:
-It’s beautiful here love, just like you said.
A path with colorful stone appears, I walk on it until I see a big white throne. Seems empty but I can hear a voice, a voice that seems to come from every direction.
-Hello old man Jasper, how do you feel here?
-Hello, confused but it’s beautiful.
-I have a task for you, if you want to find your peace here in the “Afterlife”.
-Of course, tell me, all life I searched the real peace of the soul, I think it might be here.
-When I created your soul, I gave you a purpose, a hobby, a place where your soul feels at peace, you’re job was to find it. This world has different categories like writers, painters and musician, or mathematician and physicist you have to do your greatest project to show me you found your calling and deserve to be here. You have 3 days, the first one to think, the second one to do it and the third to reflect and make it perfect.
The voice vanishes and the wind blows, I blink and a room builds itself in front of my eyes, with anything a soul could ever want. I start thinking about what I could do, my real calling, what hobby to choose, and many questions without answers.
After thinking the whole day and night, laying in the middle of the room on the cold wood an idea crossed my mind, I don’t waste any minute and start doing it. The third day I look at it from every corner at my work, I add the latest details and go to sleep.
The day comes, when 12am hits, the room starts decomposing into that white throne, it’s only us, me, my work and that manly voice.
-Tell me about your work.
-It’s a real size sculpture of my wife, I added her wings because I’m sure wings will appear to her when she will come here. I also painted her with her emerald dress, my favorite, and the musical notes you see surrounding her from head to toe forms a song, I think she would have loved it.
The wind starts spinning around my sculpture over and over again, so fast I couldn’t count. He whispers something and a creature comes, it’s an enormous circle with different figures inside, constantly changing shape and colour, the creature comes close to me and starts singing the song written on the sculpture.
-It’s beautiful, the problem is that I don’t know to which category you belong.
-I believe I belong to all of them, we’ve been all categorize on earth, we should be all together here.
God destroyed the categories and let everyone live the after life beside whomever they wanted.