“Am I dead?”
“Definition of dead,” the winged entity muttered.
“Is there more than one?”
He unbent a little.
“The last body you inhabited is perhaps ‘dead’. You are in the place of choice.”
“Choice?”
He indicated three staircases.
“Heaven, Hell, rebirth.”
“Heaven?
“Paradise, angels.”
“Hell?”
“Eternal Ibiza, cocktails, noise, sex.”
“And there’s a reason why that’s hell?”
“Eternal…”
Then I noticed his body was hiding a small door.
I wanted that door, so I pushed past him and squeezed through the aperture.
To find myself laying on hard cold ground, with my husband holding my hand.
“Don’t leave me…”
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