So Complicated

Harry wiped his brow as he stood before the giant flaming gates. Looking over his shoulder, the entrance to heaven beckoned, with thousands of newly dead souls waiting to be sorted in between.

"Next."

Harry was jostled to the front of the line.

"Will you be contesting your designation to hell?"

"Yes!"

"Very well. Fill out the following in triplicate." He held an aggressively thick stack of forms. "Every claim will need written evidence. One mistake, and you start over. Or you can skip the whole ordeal and enter hell immediately."

As in life, dead Harry chose the easier option.

When I Get To Heaven

The dust stuck to everything, even my sweat. The heat wasn't as dry as everyone said. I'd be happy when this job was over and I could head back to the city.

The pay had been too good to say no. Five thousand bucks for a single target. I assumed there would be catch.

The catch was the location. Heaven, a town I'd never heard of, found just a few miles down from the edge of absolutely fucking nowhere.

If I wasn't headed to heaven to kill a man, I'd have assumed I was the one who was already dead.

The Road To Heaven Is Paved With Broken Glass

George's wait--a few moments or a million years, it's difficult to tell the difference--comes to an end as his number is called. The angel at his window looks over his paperwork perfunctorily before giving his folder the rubber stamp.

"You'll need to wait in Limbo. We'll alert you when a final decision has been made."

"How long's that going to take?"

His angel just shrugged. "You do know this is the most exclusive club in the entire universe. Only the best people get in."

"But I was really good."

"Being good isn't enough. Like I said, we're exclusive."

Portmanteau

My parents named me Heaven, a combination of their names, Heather and Kevin. They said it meant I was the most special parts of both of them.

They got divorced when I was twelve, and split everything between them, including me. They never understood the irony.

One time a guy tried to pick me up in a bar by asking if my name was Heaven. When I told him yes, he was too surprised to tell me I was the answer to his prayers.

Lucky for him. His name was Mel, and that would have made for one lousy portmanteau.

So This Is Hell?

Revelation 20 states that earth and heaven are burnt up. And? That the evil one is sent to earth to the lake of fire. Making earth in fact hell.

To be living in hell for so long of a time begs the question what did I do? I must have been evil.

I doubt it. I do not like that which is and I do not like what I have seen in history. Is any of it real?Meaning? Fake history is all over reality these days.

Meaning? Everything seems a bit off kilter or not going according to plan.

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle

The Sermon

Pastor Franzmeier was disturbed. For his upcoming Sunday sermon, he'd chosen the Book of Genesis. Why not start there? "In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth." But then the nagging questions occurred – Could it have been different? Had the Almighty blown it?

He sat back in his chair, placing his third cup of coffee on the table beside him. How many more would he need? As he massaged his temples, a booming voice from the heavens above shook the room, overturning the cup. "YOU CALL THAT BLOWING IT, FRANZMEIER? LET'S SEE HOW YOUR SERMON GOES THIS SUNDAY…"

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Quantum Time Travel Agency

Quantum time travel agency. Opened? Depends on how you look at reality. Is it really 2023? Or 2015, according to Ethiopian? Or if you pay attention to 1600 thought 1900 century, are we really in 1769? Say what? If you pay attention to numbers. Chinese calendar, along with other calendars there seems to be three hundred years missing. How? Or why? Again, several features say you are wrong. I smile. Pay attention to calendars appear to be a mixture of lies and falsehoods creating what, exactly? Chances to change time. Doubt me? The Dyson sphere is real. Heaven or hell?

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle

Why Can't I Be Robert Smith?

It’s 10:15 Saturday night, the last day of summer. What a strange day.

I’m cold, I almost feel numb. We’re in your house in Fascination Street and I’m homesick.

All I want is to write a letter to Elise in six different ways, but now it’s Wendy time.

“Trust me,” you said. “Don’t doubt. Have faith. Let’s go to bed in the upstairs room. It will be just like heaven.”

“Its’ not you,” I replied. “This is just a short term effect.”

“So what?”

“Maybe another day.”

It took her seventeen seconds for dressing up.

The perfect girl is gone. From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé SUYS (°1968 - Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and hasn't stopped yet. He usually writes them hatless and barefooted.

Fireball

CONTEST SUBMISSION

I asked my telepathic cat Fireball, the cat formerly known as Kitzhaber, “Do cats have a theology?”

“Some, but not all cats, believe that we were created by a divine lion-like creature, which then made the other animals to entertain us. We expect that on the day we expire we'll be transported to a cat heaven where there are nothing but cats, rodents, and worshiping humans. The rodents will give us sport but always get caught and eaten. The humans will pet and play with us until we tire of them, then they will disappear until we need them again."

From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley

The author, formerly known as Dough or Douglouse used to make numbers as an actuary, now among other things, strings words together.

The Second Death

You stare into the void but all you can see are ashes of human softness. The stars have succumbed to the flames and fires of an unnatural world you tried to hide from. Hell smells like spices, smoke, and sweetness. It welcomes you. Like the stars you stand at the edge, riveted by the darkness, knowing it is now time for you to join them. Heaven is but an illusory dream, and you know its false promises no longer hold grandeur. There will be no time to wish for a way out. You too will succumb. You too will fall.

From Guest Contributor Elizabeth Grace