surya misal was the greatest secretary in all of history... and yet somehow, instead of spending her retirement on a beach with a mojito in one hand and a romance novel in another, she was somehow punished to be of eternal assistance?
set in the wor...
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THE JUDGEMENT OF SURYA MISAL ──────── the dead assistant
THE FIRST THINGTHEJUDGES said to Surya when she finally stood before them was, "Ah... This one..."
You'd think they'd be more impressed by the girl that had just efficiently reduced the number of souls in the waiting area across the river by half, but at the very most they seemed... annoyed. Did people not value good deeds in the afterlife?
"You don't get brownie points for anything you do after dying, child." Drawled the Asian woman donning a Greek chiton. She was filing her long nails disinterestedly, and her translucent image flickered whenever she frowned in dissatisfaction. Eventually, she looked up, pointing the file at Surya, "Or else any trash could just walk in and get their sentences reduced."
Sure, reasonable enough, but did she have to point at her specifically while saying trash?
"Not that you're trash, though." She added with a light smirk, before leaning back in her chair, before turning to the other two girls that were seated beside her, "Should we start?"
It was already strange enough to see an ancient Chinese person in ancient Greek clothing speaking English with a perfect accent, but the woman in the centre of the judges panel caught all of Surya's attention.
"Yes. The pen drive is here." She said. She was vaguely familiar, and the only one of the three that looked aged. Her hair was greying from the left side of her forehead, and she had warm features, like you could visit her place at any time and she'd be happy to welcome you.
"She keeps looking at you." The third girl stated. This one was as unfamiliar as the first, but she was younger than even Surya, in a parka jacket. But the inconsistencies were never ending yet again. The youngest one out of the three, but she spoke with a sort of grace you could only find in vintage films.
"Come on, why don't you do the thing?" The Asian judge grinned. The grandma shared a mischievous look with her before her back straightened. She sat taller and her wrinkles disappeared. The grey in her hair retreated til it was pure black.
"No way...!" Surya mumbled under her breath. The black woman smiled at her realisation. "Are you... Maya Angelou?"
"In the spirit." She said.
"Right..." Surya said, not fully convinced. But then again, for what reason would a ghost lie to her? Especially one that was supposed to judge her and decide whether she went to heaven or hell or whatever.
