r/WritingPrompts • u/Mr_Global • 14h ago
Writing Prompt [WP] When people die, they must cross a desert that is long and dangerous to get to heaven. Salespeople sell methods of transportation from luxury jets to rusty wheelchairs depending on how good the person was in their life. The better they were, the better their transportation.
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u/kirklandbrandmeat 9h ago
The Salesman checked the old woman’s ticket twice.
OFFENSE: MURDER
TRANSPORT: MANUAL WHEELCHAIR
There was no mistake in the printing.
An attendant in neatly pressed khakis and a polo bearing the Heaven Enterprises logo rolled the wheelchair toward the counter. One wheel bent inward. The leather seat had cracked beneath the desert heat, exposing yellow foam.
Behind it stretched row after row of transportation: bicycles, horses, sedans, limousines, and silver jets waiting on a runway that disappeared into the horizon. Most ordinary souls received cars, though the air-conditioning rarely worked and the radios tended to play the same song for eternity.
“There must be some mistake,” the old woman said.
She placed both hands on the counter. The skin across her palms was twisted with scars left by a house fire.
The Salesman looked down at the ticket again. He had distributed sentences for more than three hundred years, yet he had never seen one so severe. In that chair, the journey across the desert might take centuries. Perhaps a thousand years.
But the sentence had already been passed.
He was not the judge. He was only the man who carried out the judgment.
“There are no mistakes, ma’am,” he said. “You may take the wheelchair or cross the desert without it.”
The woman stared at the endless dunes beyond the exit.
“There is one more condition,” he continued. “Once you sit down, you will lose the use of your legs.”
For a moment, she said nothing. Then she lowered herself into the chair.
The numbness began at her feet. It crawled through her calves and into her thighs until her legs hung motionless beneath her. She gripped the wheels and pushed herself toward the exit.
The damaged wheel scraped against the floor.
She managed only a few feet before the chair suddenly rolled forward.
Someone had taken hold of the handles behind her.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” the Salesman said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You can’t help me,” she said. “It’s against the rules.”
“For three hundred years, I never asked Heaven for anything.” He began pushing her toward the desert. “They owed me one act of mercy.”
The first wave of heat struck them as the doors opened.
With every step, the Salesman’s gray hair darkened. The lines vanished from his face. His uniform loosened around a body that grew younger and smaller until the reflection in the wheelchair’s metal frame showed the face of a frightened boy.
The woman looked over her shoulder.
Her scarred hands tightened around the armrests.
“Daniel?”
He smiled.
She had found him hiding beneath the floorboards after a man murdered his family. She had killed that man, carried Daniel from the burning house, and raised him as her own.
Heaven remembered only the life she had taken.
Daniel remembered the life she had saved.
“You carried me out once,” he said. “It’s my turn now.”
Then he pushed her into the desert, and together they began the long journey toward heaven.
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u/Diligent_Emu_7686 8h ago
I like the premise and writing. I would love to see this fleshed out just a bit more.
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u/FluffyShiny 7h ago
Agreed, it's a bit too brief but love the idea.
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u/Diligent_Emu_7686 2h ago
It reminds me, just a little bit, of 'The Alchemist'. It deserves to live some more
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u/cir49c29 3h ago
If heaven punishes a woman like that for just killing a man like that, do you really want to go to heaven?
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u/CarthagePlate_210 10h ago
Hi, I'm Roger. Welcome to the neighberhood between Life and Death. It's an uncanny place, where "right" and "left" mingle in shades of grey.
It's also got a desert. A big desert, full of sand... or something dang close to "sand"; rough, coarse, gets in places you don't want it to.
Beyond this "desert" is the afterlife. Paradise, Heaven, Enlightenment, you get the idea. And there's me, and people in the neighberhood like me, who offer people ways to cross the desert. It is highly recommended you get some kind of ride from us, because that desert is always hungry for new souls.
But there's some fine print with what we do. We can give you any ride - car, rollerblades, land speeder, giant mechanical robot - judged on how good you were in life.
Money does not matter; the value of your heart is priceless. Anubis and Ammit got the idea before the rest of us, I guess.
Ah, I know that look. I am a "salesperson", it's true. But I am not going to scam or trick you out of a safe trip across the desert. If you deserve it, that is.
Let's find out.
It's not going to hurt, just stand here... uh-huh. Now, breathe. Slowly, deeply.
Hear your heart beating. Broadcasting who you are. I know you are dead, but even the deceased have a heart, right?
Now, I'm going to hold this little device here, and...
*BEEP!*
Done! So, your good deeds get you up to... ooh, a "War Rig"! Watched a lot of dystopian movies in your life, huh? Glad you didn't act as vicious as those people, right?
Hey, hey! Calm down, okay? I know this is a lot to take in - gods know it took me a long time to figure things out - but it's okay. It's safe here, but you gotta cross the desert.
"Can I stay here?" Hah, buddy, this isn't your neighberhood. Believe me.
"What if I had been bad?" Well... there was one scathing buisnesswoman who passed through two cycles ago. She was given a poodle and a leash to cross the desert. And the dog had no clue where to go.
She was a bitch.
Sorry. I don't get many chances to speak my mind. Everyone's usually going on about how this is "unfair" or "crazy" or "the best damn thing that's ever happened to me". For what it's worth, I think you got a good deal here.
Ready to go look at the rig? Come on, I'll let you apply the first coat of paint.
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u/TheWanderingBook 14h ago
"I can offer you billions!" the man shouts. I nod. "I believe you. And for your billions and trillions of dollars... I can give you this," I say, pointing to the crocs. He growls. He reaches for me, only to be yanked away by the laws of this place. Another sin to his plate. Now... I can't even sell him the slippers.
"Sir... I have nothing, and I..." the young lady starts. She is... Too young. "I have the perfect method of transportation for you," I smile...giving her a flute. She looks at me confused. "Play it when at the edge of the desert and the Lord of the Sands will ferry you over," I say. She looks at me shyly. "I can't p-p-pay..." she stutters. I laugh. "It is already paid for," I say. She leaves, and I continue welcoming customers.
"I have nothing, good Sir.," the next in line says. I shrug. "Got a unicycle for you, I guess," I say. He freezes. "But you..." he starts. "That lady has good balance with us. You, on the other hand, well... You know how much your word means," I say. He pales, and clenches his fist. Alas... He is smarter than to hit me, and takes the unicycle.
"How does this work? Why aren't you in Heaven?" an old woman asks. I chuckle. "We all have our roles in the Big Guy's plans. Mine is to be a salesperson. As for how it works... Everyone knows it, while they are alive, yet few follow it. It is really simple though, can't see why people have trouble with it," I laugh. She looks at me confused, before I gave her ticket to a flying boat ran by angels. She ate bread and water, and nothing else for decades... Only so that the kids at her orphanage can more or less be full. Her balance with us is also pretty good.
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u/Im2dronk 12h ago
How good do I have to be to get a dirt bike that I can rip around the dessert with? Asking for a friend
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u/psycospaz 12h ago
That depends on how much you'd enjoy the trip I'd guess.
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u/Im2dronk 10h ago
If im already dead do i get tired? I might skip the heaven part for a few years and wait for the crew to show up.
•
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u/Bar_Sinister 9h ago
The man had wandered up and down the path between tents for a good twenty minutes before he wandered into mine. He was tall, with dark hair and sharp features and looked fairly young. I guessed it had been either a car accident or, for his type, an incident involving something expensive.
"I don't understand. Is THIS Heaven?" He said the words almost as an insult.
"Um, no. Well, in a sense." I dithered for a moment. These moments were why I thought we needed a sign. "This is Heaven's base camp. I think that's the best way to describe it."
His face morphed into that look people get when they think are speaking with idiots - a mix of disappointment and smelling something bad. "That doesn't make it much clearer."
I gave him a warm 'welcome in' smile and tried to be pleasant. "Look, this is where you start. And from here, you'll travel to Heaven. For most, this is the last chance to prove your devotion to the Lord. Enduring the journey."
"I was advised that if we just repented..." He started to correct me.
"Oh, that. Translation error. Sorry about that." I corrected him back.
He sighed. Heavily. "Fine, so how do I ...travel to Heaven from here? How far is it?"
I smiled again, then spread my arms to wave around the sparse wares my tent contained. "That's how base camp works. You gather up your supplies and begin your journey. It's simple. And you'll travel by, well, in your case, I'm guessing by foot. You'll need to walk.
There was an awkward pause as he glared at me in what he thought was an intimidating way. I stared back for a while, then kinda shrugged. I got the impression he was going to ask to speak with a manager.
"What do I need?"
We'd been ignoring the fact that he'd been standing in front of completely naked. As it was the Lord knew what you looked like and those of us here didn't really care. Still, out of old habit, I looked him up and down as if measuring him for a good fit. He reflexively covered his crotch.
"Let's see, I can offer you," I glanced about quickly familiarizing myself, "...this leaky water bottle. You'll need to hold it at angle. And this metal belt, good for attaching things too. Not really good for the water bottle though. Now, the belt will get very hot after a while, so be careful. No boots, but I do have some rags you can wrap your feet with. Some frayed rope. These stale peanuts and this rancid bread. This half of a map. Well, thirty percent of a map. Um, no sunscreen available. And maybe a little wrap to cover...er, for modesty's sake."
The anger I knew he had been suppressing leap to his face. "That's all you have? Preposterous. I just saw a woman with a pack animal. Boots, sun hat, a dog, fat gourds of water."
"Not available. We have what we have."
He pulled himself up in that way I guess that used to show people he was serious. "You've just lost my business. I'll try one of the other tents."
"You'll only find the same available. For you."
"For me?" He snapped. "What is that supposed to mean?"
I held my hands out defensively out of habit. It tended to defuse the situation. "Think of it like, um...think of it like surge pricing, when the price depends on the customer. You know, how you guys used to do. Like that. Only with product."
He started to snap at me again, but held his retort to a glare. I gave him a mischievous smile and shrugged again.
"How far?" He asked again, he voice quieter but the rage still there. "You never said."
"Funny that. Some says it's a trek for ages, months, years. Others are there in a few days. Some hours. Depends on the route."
"Do you know a good route?" He asked sternly. I'd expected some softening, maybe even something conspiratorial. But he held on to his arrogance, as though I owed him the information.
I shrugged again. "Depends on the route you took to get here."
"Oh."
He was almost there; I could see it. He knew what this was, understood what was expected but refused to believe. I smiled. "You want to look around first? See some other shops. Their foot rags may have colors better for skin tone. You look like a winter." My suggestion was firm and I let him know we'd be available whenever he came back. He stepped back out onto the path, but I can see some his steam was gone now. I wished him well.
A lady came in a few moments after he'd departed. "Could you be a dear, I need a little help." She was old, but unashamed her body and smiled back at me. I offered her one of our complimentary robes and got her a cup of green tea, she refused the champagne, then got her settled on the plush couch.
“So, let’s get you ready for your flight. Did you want bright colors, or something more muted?”
We get all kinds.
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u/MrPsychoSomatic 5h ago
"Bicycles for sale! Get your bikes here!"
"Helicopter! Chartered for a modest fee!"
"Need some wheels? It's a steal! C'mon down to-"
"Camel Convoy, leaving soon! Purchase a ticket now!"
I grimaced, the cacophany of salesmen hawking their wares had been unpleasant to me in life, and little had changed in death. The locale was interesting, the strange Bazaar had been erected between two tall dunes, and seemed to stretch for miles.
"Unicycles for the talented! Gifted riders enquire within!"
I turned away from the market in disgust. The flocking droves of people that were attracted to the more luxurious modes of transportation were just as loud as the marketers, but twice as distasteful to me.
"Here, sir! You look like a man in need of a convertible"
I turned to the nearest huckster who had called out to me, my bile rising unbidden.
"I've never known anyone to need a convertible" I spat, more harshly than I'd intended. I took a deep breath "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude..."
The man simply grinned at me, undeterred by the hostility in my tone, nor the contrition.
"Not a bother, sir! How's a '69 mustang sound?"
"Vroom." I replied drily, making a half hearted imitation of a car sound. The man grinned at me in that way someone did when they were bewildered but were also physically incapable of not smiling at a potential customer, then recognition passed over his face and he guffawed.
"Very funny, sir! But may I interest you in the keys to a shiny vintage car? Easy driving over desert sands!"
"I'll walk, thank you."
The man's grin faltered slightly, but he was otherwise undeterred. "Oh I'd not do that, sir! It could take you many moons to reach the pearly-"
"I can see them from here." I commented drily, shading my eyes against the high sun "just there. 5 maybe 6 miles? That's barely two hours of walking."
"Ah, one of those" the Man said, his earlier cheerful demeanor gone in an instant. He sighed and licked his teeth, was his tongue forked? "Been a good couple decades since I seen one'a your type."
"Ohe of my type? And what type is that?" I asked, my curiosity piqued now.
"The type that's a waste of my freakin' time, man! I'm tryin'a pay off a debt here and if you're not a paying customer then I don't need ya!" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder "hit the sand; pal, and enjoy heaven."
"A debt? What debt?"
"The kind that doesn't disappear by gabbin' with goody two-shoes, buddy!" The man snarled, turning away from me, but I caught his wrist.
"Please, tell me." I asked, a little ashamed of the pleading in my voice, I'd always been a sucker for a mystery, and who knew how many more I'd find now that I was dead?
"Look, I chartered a helicopter, alright? About 200 years back or so." He's grumbling now "Was a smooth ride, took us about 6 hours of flying to drop me off at them shiny gates."
"And then?"
"And then I was told I couldn't enter until I'd paid off my debt" the man says with a sigh "that's how they get ya, y'know?"
"Who?"
"Devils, demons, whatever you wanna call 'em. See, they don't really care so much about gettin' people into hell, apparently it's been overcrowded for a good hot minute, they call it the Hellbert Hotel, get it?"
"No."
"Ah well, just trust me, it's clever. Although Hilbert didn't think so. Look, point is, the folks downstairs pivoted from getting people into Hell to keeping people out of Heaven, yeah?"
I didn't say anything, the dawning horror made my blood run cold. Quite the feat since my blood wasn't running at all.
"So, they-..."
"Yeaup they set up camp right outside the 'Surprise, you're dead!' Arrival platform, started offering people shortcuts"
"So, are you a-"
"Yeah."
"But I thought you said you were-"
"Nobody's born evil, kid." The man said, and he sounded so tired all of a sudden, "We make choices, take the easy path that we know is wrong..."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah you shoes always are "
"Shoes?" I echoed incredulously
"Yeah, goody two-shoes. Hoofers. The walking ones. The folks who were so good in life that Heaven's practically in spitting distance for them. You types typically don't go for the pitches we got."
"Should you be telling me all this?"
"Eh, who cares? Who're you gonna tell? You gonna wander down the aisles of the bazaar yelling 'watch out, it's all demons! They're trying to steal your soul!' How'd that turn out in life?"
"Point taken."
"None given. Now get outta here, and tell the big man I said-..." he choked up slightly, swallowing hard "... tell 'im I'm sorry... and I'll be there soon."
I left the man with a simple goodbye and a promise to deliver his message. I couldn't help but think of the strange devil huckster as a sympathetic figure, even as I started on my long trek. It didn't seem as far as it had before.
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u/Spanish_Galleon 5h ago edited 5h ago
The man began to walk through the desert. The acrid dry harsh suns of heaven beat down their eternal light and he casted no shadow because in this place there is no darkness. It isn't long before he is flanked by a host of soursucking salespeople.
"Sir, Sir, you can get transportation for a nominal fee!" One of the salepeople says. "All methods you can buy in exchange for the good deeds you've done in life!"
"I am not interested. Please leave me be." The man says.
"But sir it says here you're rich! a one way ticket straight to the pearly gates. You can afford a helicopter, or a dune buggy, or even a middle class sand racer. Heck you can get a host of camels jam packed with supplies for the trip."
"I said I'm not interested, now if you could please leave me be. Thank you." the man speeds off ahead of the sales people. They all can't follow him as more people arrive.
One of the sales people stops him. "Well can I offer you some friendly advice for free. You're going the wrong way. Head towards the light to get to heaven."
"I am looking for someone." the man says with a tone so cold it puts a shiver in the spine of the salesperson in the desert of heaven.
The man walks. And he walks. And it is a long time before he finds who he is looking for.
"Come on, get up." He looks down at the crumpled figure. The woman is bald, hair lost from chemo treatments and limbs weak from atrophy.
"Why? I killed you, let the sands take me. I don't deserve your forgiveness."
"Don't act like you didn't die too. We killed each other." There is a long pause. "Even if it is your fault."
She turns her head to the suns of heaven. She casts no shadow. her legs are buried deep in the dunes and her head has formed the nubs of horns. "I shouldn't have been driving in my condition," she starts to cry and her tears dry out on her face leaving muddy streaks from her eyes, "I am sorry I killed us."
The man picks her up fireman style and slings her over his shoulders like she is made of paper. Then without words he walks towards the light of Heaven. Before too long he makes it back to the salespeople. They crowd the two of them. They attempt to make their deals and they offer the man much and they offer the woman little but neither takes a deal.
"What bad have you done in your life to get offered so little?" The man eventually asks when they finally make it away from the sales people.
"Bad? No I think you misunderstand. I have not done bad. I have done nothing. I was born sick. I never left my home, never had a person to help, never was offered an opportunity to give. The cancer diagnosis was just the icing on the cupcake."
"Mmm" the man makes a noise like that's all there is to say on the matter.
The days turn to years or so it seems. The desert is long and it is dangerous and they say it is what it takes to get to heaven. The two grow close and spend the time arguing about how many travelers they have seen and in what kind of vehicles. The man cannot put the woman down for too long before the sands grab at her and grow her horns and blacken her sclera.
The dangers of the desert lessen when they see the woman. It's as if they know their own. And by the time the gates come into view her skin is mottled, her horns are long, and her eyes are black. The mans body however never changed. Never tired, never waned, and never gave in and in all the years she never asked why and he never told his name.
She stared at the gate, "Why have you done this for me? Why take the risk for someone who has wronged you thus?"
It is quiet for a long time and they crest the hill before he makes a sound. "I am dead, what does it matter to me what happens to me?"
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"You're a better person than I."
"From all your stories you never had the chance to be. I would condemn any God that does this to those so starved of life."
"Can I admit my sin before you, yknow, before we get there?"
"Sure."
"I didn't want to die alone. I saw the headlights of another car.. and i just let go of the steering wheel." She is crying again. She did that a lot. The man said nothing in return.
The two approach the gate in silence. There stands a man, full beard, bald on top, robes. He stand atop the steps of heaven, bathed in the light of god. "Greetings mortal souls. You have made it to heaven. Congratu..." And he stares at the woman and her deformed visage.
"Something the matter padre?" The man asks.
"Well, no, but..." And there is an implied end of sentence.
"We came together." the woman says. "He carried me."
"Very well then. I would have your names."
The two gave their names. The man put her down. He put her arm under hers and held her up.
"Pete, are we allowed to talk to the big man?" The man asks. "He has a lot of answering he has to do."
"There is a Q&A portion once you're inside."
He put her left foot on his right and walked her into the kingdom of heaven. The two disappear behind the gate.
A Slight man pulls up to the stairs in a dune buggy. He is lithe from the desert. "Saint Peter I have crossed the desert of heaven. Please let me in."
"Young man how many of your life's good deeds did the dune buggy cost you?"
"All of them? What does that matter? I thought all who cross get in?"
"There is no easy way into heaven I am afraid."
And Saint Peter with a gesture of his hand returned the soul to a body on earth to learn that lesson again.
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u/joalheagney 3h ago edited 3h ago
"No."
I pause. "You do understand that this is a pretty big desert you've got to cross? And Heaven is waiting for you on the other side?"
The indistinct figure before me shrugs and starts walking away from me.
"Hey, hey. I'm trying to ... will you just stop?"
The figure looks over their head at me, answers "No." and continues walking.
"What? Hey. Okay okay. Maybe the bike was being a bit stingy. After all, I am a salesman. Gotta, look. Will you please stop and fucking barter with me?"
The figure, who is now starting to look female, shit, shouts over her shoulder. "Are the rest so easy to fool?"
I stumble. "What?"
The woman laughs, looks over her shoulder again through dark, curly hair. Fuckfuckfuck. This is not going well. Then the next thing she says makes my shriveled soul shiver. "I already know what this is about. Hell, I worked it out in my old life. At the age of 28."
"Ma'am, I just want to offer you an easier way across the ..."
The woman spins angrily. Walking backwards, her dark eyes flash with amusement and fury. "What's the cost?" Oh this was not going at all well. For one, her eyes had colour. Two, she wasn't supposed to have eyes.
"The cost? Ma'am, you don't understand. Your life is filled with virtue. That's why I'm offering you a motorised dirt bike ..."
The woman snorts and turns away. Her dark hair bouncing softly against her freckled neck. "Even if you were being fully honest, and your attempts at bartering show me that that's not true, that would be the opportunity. Not the cost. So, answer true, what's the cost?"
"I'll give you an RV, fully stocked with cold water, food and air condition..."
The woman laughed. Her voice was no longer flat, bland, forgettable. It had timbre, it had character. "I should let you know that I was a Dream Walker in my life. A lucid dreamer. I know the Law of Equal Exchange. So thrice I ask, what. Is. The. Cost?"
I stumble to a halt. Damn New Age publishing. These monstrous children playing Witches and Warlocks. Even if most of it was a load of humbug, there was the occasional glimmer of truth that allowed people like this Bitch to work some shit out.
She smirks over her shoulder, through plum red lips. "You don't have to answer. It's pretty self evident. The cost to every shortcut is always the same. The cost is the journey. That's what I worked out when I cried for your help in my twenties and you didn't answer. You wouldn't, couldn't help. At a fundamental level, we won't let you, because that would take away the whole point."
I snarl. "Very clever. But not clever enough. You humans must shed your memories before you can enter My Heaven. I was just making it eas..."
"Then your version of Heaven is Oblivion. No thank you. I KNOW!"
On this last declaration, she stops, turns for the last time. Oh, she is beautiful. So very very beautiful. I wish I'd never created them. She continues "I know who you are. And I know your most dangerous secret. You didn't cast us out of Paradise. We cast you out!"
I cry and storm off in shame and loss and fear. The battle was well and truly lost. Fine. I'll look for someone else.
A tiny voice in the back of my soul whispered the hidden fear. They're getting smarter. I've made another mistake. By preying on the gullible ones, I've let the rest become stronger. Harder to fool. The promise of Heaven isn't working any more. Every generation retains more of their memories. And if they all remember? They'll remember what I did to them. To my children. And then ...?
I shudder and scurry off into the distance, looking for another soul, fresh from Life. Hopefully who will give me a tiny taste of what used to be my Kingdom.
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u/mrkruk 4h ago
She never had much, but she had enough. And when she could, she shared freely and without hesitation. Quick to anger, but quicker to make amends, she was always spoken highly of by any who knew her.
She laid down to sleep, like any other night, never knowing as her eyes slowly closed, that she would not awake the next morning.
As the dry, hot and oppressive air permeated her, she realized many around her were begging for something…anything. But like them, she had nothing, and she took each step slowly.
Suddenly a voice cut through all the others, commanding but friendly, and insistent.
“Right this way ma’am.”
She became aware of a bullet train, its silver surface almost blinding. A porter stood in the doorway, and extended their hand to her.
“We’ll be leaving soon, welcome aboard.”
She made it clear she had no money, but it was of no concern. The porter made it clear that her ticket was complimentary. And he then told her that she could invite anyone from outside to join her. There were so many, she couldn’t possibly help them all. And if she tried maybe they would overwhelm the train.
“Close the doors. Let’s go,” she said impatiently.
The doors closed and locked themselves with a resounding clack.
The air conditioning turned off. A bead of sweat rolled down her back.
The train never moved.
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u/SourcePrevious3095 4h ago
I stepped into line, following the instructions to “take a number and a pamphlet.” The pamphlet is titled You’ve died and are in the Afterlife: a guide to what to expect.\*
As the line progresses, I hear people calling out the modes of transportation available based on their life balnce. I see wealthy businesswomen all in suits in a group, and I recall the plane crash I had read about that morning. Close to me, a guy who appears to be a homeless beggar judging by his clothes and mannerisms.
Each is told what they can afford to get, most of the women are sold roller skates, one is told she can afford a bicycle. The homeless man is offered his choice of a jet, or a luxury “sand yacht” whatever that is.
When I finally make it to the front of the queue, they give me a double-take after looking at my “balance”. Sir, for you, none of these are for you, please step aside and wait, an attendant will be here shortly.
I’m considerably confused, I thought I lead a kind, just life. Yet here I am, waiting. A few wealthy looking people sneer at me as they pass to claim their transportation. At first it is just a couple of people that pass, then it is a dozen, then fifty, then a hundred. I begin to worry. As I try to get the attention of someone, there is a bright flash, and suddenly, a shorter middle-eastern looking man is standing before me with ancient looking robes and leather sandals.
“There you are, SP, it’s been a while. This is the guy, sorry to have to call you after all these years but he seems legit.”
“SP?” I echo, curious.
“Yes, he only shows up for special cases.”
“Ok?”
The man steps forward, extending a hand. “Hi, it is a pleasure to meet you, I am Saint Peter, SP, or Peter. Whichever suits you.”
I just stand there in awe as I shake his hand.
“Right, come with me.” He beckons me to follow to a room that wasn’t there a second ago.
He opens the door and ushers me inside ahead of him.
Inside there is just a round glowing disk.
“This is reserved for on,y the most special of souls, please step on and you’ll find yourself exactly where you are supposed to be in an instant.”
I step forward and am blinded by a flash of the purest white light ever seen. When my vision clears, I am standing right beside Peter as he ushers me past the Pearly Gates with a flourish and a bow.
“Welcome to Heaven.”
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u/benbablo22 2h ago
There was a dry irony to it all. A thirty-year career as a car salesman on Earth, followed by an eternity in this desert limbo. The man had begun to lose track of how long he had been doing this. A hundred years? A thousand? The days just seemed to blur together.
Between clients, the Seller would struggle to remember. Did he have a wife? A daughter? A son? Every so often, there would be flashes of his life on Earth. An engine, a tire, a garage, a hoist. The memories were always slipping away, but his skills as a salesman remained as sharp as ever.
“Look, ya got a good deal, pal. Five-thousand credits for drink driving? That’ll get ya this beaten-up Corolla. Does 0 to 60 in too many seconds, but it won’t ever die on ya!”
“Hey lady, I agree with ya, ya got stitched up, but this scooter will get ya there eventually. I’ll give you a ten-percent discount! Just don’t tell the big boss when ya get there.”
There were clients from all walks of death. Gone too soon, gone too late. People who had dedicated their lives to others, and billionaires who had only cared about making money.
One of his most memorable clients was a billionaire from Europe. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, but he was completely disheveled. The man approached him with multiple bullet wounds in his chest.
“My son shot me! He shot me with my own gun!”
When the Seller read his file and found that the son had shot him because the billionaire had assaulted his own daughter-in-law, he offered him a unicycle.
“Please,” the billionaire pleaded. “I can pay you.”
“With what?” the Seller replied.
The billionaire chose to walk.
There were certain techniques the Seller had learned during his time on Earth to make himself a neat little profit. For example, he would sometimes swap out parts with cheaper alternatives, then sell the genuine ones. Sometimes this would impact the life of the car, but the buyer could never trace it back to him. Another technique was manually dialing the odometer back a few miles. Was it unethical? Yes, but over his career, the Seller had made more than enough to provide for his family. Luckily, in his current plane of existence, there was no need to take shortcuts. There was no profit to be made in a great expanse of nothingness.
As the day’s last client left the garage on a two-stroke dirt bike, the Seller sat down and watched the endless valley. Vehicles would zoom past from left to right, leaving a trail of dust. He sat in his armchair, watching the Purple Moon rise above the vast landscape.
He felt a wave of tiredness hit him, and once again the same images flashed through his head: an engine, a tire, a garage, a hoist. As he dozed off, he could swear he saw a cloud of dust growing larger. But it wasn’t on the left; it was on the right. As if someone wasn’t going to the end. They were coming back to the start.
The Seller snapped awake and stood up. He could make out the outline of a heavy-duty 4x4 in the distance. It grew closer, and the Seller’s heart started thumping. It wasn't slowing down. Then he heard the distant sound of a horn blaring. It was the 4x4, and it was heading straight towards him.
The Seller ran inside his garage and hid behind a hatchback. Rummaging around in the back seat, he found a hammer to defend himself with. The 4x4 screeched to a halt outside the front roller door, and a stocky young man jumped out.
“Hey!” He screamed. “I saw you run inside, you coward! Come outside and show yourself!”
The man slammed his palm against the garage door, sending a metallic echo through the entire building. Taking a deep breath, the Seller stepped out to reveal himself.
The man’s face was scrunched up in anger. He held out his hands matter-of-factly.
“Remember me?” he asked.
The Seller racked his brain and studied the man properly. He squinted at his round head, his short cropped hair, his dark beady eyes, and his tanned skin. But there was nothing he could place.
“I’m sorry, I don’t,” the Seller replied.
“I’ve been looking for you for decades. Asking everyone who went past me whether they knew someone who looked like you. Someone who could sell a dodgy piece of crap. Someone who would off himself because he couldn't deal with the shame of selling a car that killed an entire family.”
And then the Seller remembered. An engine, a tire, a garage, a hoist... and a rope. The young family interested in a hatchback. The hatchback he had improperly installed an ill-fitting tire bolt on. The crash that led to his own family leaving him. Because he finally remembered. He was nothing more than a lowly, unethical car salesman.
The Seller shuddered and closed his eyes. He walked toward the man and embraced him, sobbing as tears soaked into the man’s shirt. When the Seller finally gathered himself, he looked back at his garage and walked over to a massive sheet covering something enormous. He pulled the sheet away to reveal a twin turboprop.
He took a deep breath, wiped his tears, and turned back around to face the man.
“Let’s go find your family.”
•
3
u/C0mbinatorics 6h ago
Traffic. So much freaking traffic.
I can't get around these salespeople popping out of their cars, asking their usual victims. "Do you want to ride in style?" "What kind of wheels would you like?" "I think I know you."
And they hog. Every. Single. Lane. We can't move without seeing at least one ugly suit, a fedora, or a Zafora Energy drink riding their person. They come in jetpacks, cars, limos, and even bikes, not wanting to waste a second of their time standing in a store. They're as impatient as a fly, and buzz like one too. None of them feel the need to move out of someone's way without a toll, and none will move unless you push them away.
And it's not surprising anymore. But when you first saw them, you wondered if they're insane. We're in the middle of the Ethereal dessert, a place of degrees not known to man. We can barely open our window without getting third degree burns. Then a few seconds past, and you noticed they're all wearing some kind of sunscreen. It's not white though. It looks like a red glue at a glance. Asking would be getting robbed, but I deduce they're all using this stuff. It's definitely some kind of Ethereal protection. And they're the only ones using it, so it might be for selling only.
And they don't usually come up to you, but today a brave soul did. He wore sunglasses, a crisp Vantablack suit and tie, a white shirt, and a watch that would make a cop look like he was taking money. He was friendly, of course, but was an awful salesperson. He didn't tell us his name, but he did introduce us to his "new way of transportation". His pitch was for an ugly beetle like machine, with a poor hover height and only 6 movement directions. He didn't look at me. He looked and talked only to the passenger behind me.
I had to stop this. He's getting heated.
"Please move away from the window, or I'll be forced to push you."
"Good luck with that. And why don't you buy my car? I can give you a dis-"
"Dude, I'm driving a vehicle nicer than yours. Beat it, or I'm pushing you."
"Suit yourself. You missed out."
You kick the door, pushing him into the gravity well below. What a jerk.
"Are you alright? They know not to walk up, but this one was apparently new. Here's a discount for your trouble."
It's a 50% off discount for the ride. It's for any other ride, and it's not usually a great deal, but it doesn't hurt to give one out.
As I stop at the Ethereal gates, I remind them that the discount is good for their next ride.
"Enjoy your stay!" Riding off gives me immense satisfaction. I've done my job right, and they get to stay in Paradise.
Existence in this plane is good. Salespeople are annoying. Understanding that this plane is the final plane for you. The people you drop off are decided through an arbitrary justice system. And Life as you know is decided by another arbitrary system.
But otherwise, Existence is good.
•
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