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Heaven (short story) (1 Viewer)

starsofclay

Senior Member
(( Part of this story was meant to be read with music. If you want to try it, the story will tell you when to press play on the music. You probably want to open the video in a separate tab first. Also make sure to see the picture in comments, it was the picture prompt which inspired the story.))

The Golden Prayer - short story

When I first got to Heaven, they stuck me on the first floor mailroom filing prayer requests. These requests piled in through countless channels in the form of hand written notes, and I never questioned what the point in all this was when the big man upstairs--the head hancho CEO himself-- could hear prayers telepathically. You learn not to ask a lot of questions in Heaven. (After some time, I came to suspect it was because no one really knows.)

And trust me, I had questions. Like why was Heaven some corporate skyrise with glass panels stretching up to the clouds? I thought we were supposed to be in the clouds, dancing around some pearly gates or something. No one told me I'd be put to work. And what the heck was up with the angels? I couldn't tell if they were supposed to be our supervisors or us theirs; because they were very shy and would teleport away the very second I made eye contact.

I would have had like zero training if it weren't for the kind souls who were put there with me in the mailroom. A nice man named Jerry (who was homeless most of his adult living life) showed me the ropes of filing the prayer requests. He said he was teaching me exactly how he was taught when he arrived. 'The good ol' way.'

"Now, its very important to get everything in perfect alphabetical order," he'd say often, "God is real particular about order, let me tell you. Trust me, they notice. Do good and you may move on up someday, kid."

Jerry had been trying to get into accounting for two human decades. Honestly, I think at this point he'd settle for custodian, just to get off the first floor.

One morning, after pulling an all-nighter during covid season, I stumbled upon an odd colored envelope which appeared from an unknown channel. It was on the floor in a pile of white envelopes, but this one was golden with a red wax seal. When I picked it up the mailroom echoed with gasps; and Jerry emerged, approaching with hesitation.

"It's you," he said, eyes widening. "Of course its you. I knew it from the very beginning."

"What?" I asked, stunned. "What is it?"

"You got a golden prayer," he answered. Was he crying? "Those are hand delivered, by whoever finds it. Cannot be touched by two souls. It's yours kid. You're the one. Straight to the top."

The crowd parted while he and two more elders led me down to the far side of the mailroom and to an elevator.

"Now, go," Jerry said, wiping an eye. "And remember me. I was the one who gave you an extra donut on your first day, yesir!"

"Well I'll be back soon of course," I said.

"No, no," he replied solemnly. "They say those who deliver the golden prayer never come back down… now go!"

He shoved me into the elevator and with one last hopeful wave goodbye, then pressed the button to close the doors.




(begin music)



I… I had to catch my breath for a second and process…

Like what the actual hell? (oops, sorry God!)

The elevator climbed and climbed, up and up to-- well, the heavens I guess. It claimed there were 72 floors but I'll be dam--darned-- if it didn't feel like an eternal climb. On and on… long enough for it to truly set in where I was headed, and for the mind to invent a million things of what I'd see when I would arrive. It was almost torture, had I not whole lifetimes to reflect upon to bide the time.

Finally, with a chime like an alarm clock stealing me from a pleasant dream, the doors opened on floor 72.

"Come, come," the angels beckoned me, lining both sides of the hall down towards great big golden doors. They played the most beautiful music on pearly harps and golden trumpets, and it struck me that these angels were not shy at all. They looked me in the eye, flooding the very essence of my being with a type of love I could never describe. I was here. I was worthy.

I was Home.

Or perhaps it was the golden prayer in my hands-- but oh well, I’d take it.


I nearly floated to the great doors. I had so many things to say to the CEO, and not much time to sort them all out. But oh, was he going to get it! That was for sure. (What he would get, I hadn't exactly worked that out yet... )

…And Jerry, I couldn't forget Jerry. He was kind to me.

With a loud creak the doors opened wide.

The first thing I remember seeing was quite perplexing. There was a time, I thought, when I would have called this my living room. It seemed like ages ago, but the memories were trickling in---and as they did, the scene began to build: the old brown leather couch which had seen one too many drunken nights; the painting of a hippie Buddha I found at a thrift store down the street; my cat Binx….

"Clear!" I heard from within the room, and suddenly the silhouettes of people formed from a dark mist. They were huddled over in front of the couch, and as their images materialized it became clear they were hovering over…

…me.

"I have a pulse," I heard one say. I walked closer and looked at the body. Yes, I did look like that at one time, right? Yes, that was definitely me. My name was… Sam. Sam Waters. It was all coming back now. My heart was weak from a childhood illness. They told me from the beginning it would fail early. I just didn't think it would be this early…

~~ Open the letter ~~

A voice beckoned to me from beyond, and I heeded. Inside the envelope was a small handwritten note saying--

"I pray he awakens to his true nature."

And with that, I opened my eyes for the first time since going down.

After weeks in the hospital I was finally allowed to return home. On the way, I stopped near the city park. There was a homeless man there and I gave him my car. I could walk.

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Picture prompt from Pixaby.com
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