Member-only story
This is What Happens When You Die
“What happened!” shouts a man. The last thing he remembers is falling down the side of the cliff.
“You just died, Joel,” says a presence to his right. Without looking, Joel feels its love and kindness like a warm light. It sits at his side like a father explaining that Grandma died. Joel’s eyes are still adjusting to the new plane, so he can’t make out the being.
“Oh. Where am I?”
“Well… I don’t really know,” says the being.
“You don’t know? But you’re here, aren’t you, like, God or something?”
Joel can begin to see, but the being is abstract and changing all the time; made of light and is stunning to behold. He could not begin to describe it in words. Much less the sea of molten beauty around him, moving and not bound by any sense of continuity or cohesion. The being of light thinks Joel can tell. “Oh, that’s a good question,” it says. “Um…. Yes. Well… Yes. Yes. Let’s go with yes.”
“How could you not know?” Joel asks.
“I’m just figuring it out like you are, Joel.”
“Just figuring it out…” Joel repeats to himself. “I gotta be honest with you, God — should I call you God?”
“Yeah!” God says, unconvincingly. “Yeah, you can call me God.”
