The Final Accounting

Last night, the sky broke asunder, as if someone had taken a knife and cleaved the horizon in two. The ruptured atmosphere peeled back to reveal a gateway into another realm.

I was driving to work when it happened. The immediate assumption was that the end times were at hand and everyone started clamoring to get home or escape the city as quickly as possible. Of course, if it was the apocalypse, I'm not sure why people were running. You can't run from your final judgement.

I kept driving to work. I figured the world needed accountants more than ever.

No Remorse

Peter scanned the document, making note of the many black marks against the latest supplicant.

"Deceit. Petty Theft. Cursing. Coveting your neighbor's wife. Murder. Excessive Pride. You managed quite a tally."

The man laughed conspiratorially. "Yes, I was quite the sinner in my day."

Peter took off his glasses and stared down at the man. "And it seems you show little remorse."

"Well, I figure remorse is for the Europeans, or people from developing countries."

"Yes, it's true, God is an American. But when it comes to your final judgement, your nationality is only a small percentage of the evaluation."