You've just died. You were on your way back home when suddenly, you were robbed and killed. Authorities saw your body one hour after you were killed. And now you're here with me.
"Where am I?" You asked,
"Between the passage way of life and death, see all those lights? Those are souls." I said.
"Hm..."
You looked around in curiousity, you felt like you've been here before, but you can't seem to get a hold of where you've seen this place.
"What about my family? My mom, my children and my wife?" You asked,
"Your family will be perfectly fine, you never visited your mom after you graduated university, your children haven't really come into a more lovable relationship with you, and your marriage was failing in the first place." I said.
"Oh" you said in a depressing way.
You looked at me with confusion and asked
"Who are you? Have I met you before?"
"Oh, yes. I am what you would call, God. And yes, we have met a long time ago." I said.
"So, do I go to heaven, or to hell?" You asked.
"Neither, you'll be reincarnated." I said while I was taking you by the shoulder.
"So, the Hindus were right." You said,
"All religions are right in their own way." I answered.
And as the world gradually transistioned from the blank and dark slate to a more recognizable sky. The night sky.
YOU ARE READING
You.
Short StoryYou've just died, and you're here with me. In a blank, and familar place. Based on the stort by Andy Weir "The Egg"
