Clipboard Twemoji Image credit: Twitter Twemoji

“So, I’m dead?” said Samuel.

The interlocutor on the other side of the table flipped through some papers on their clipboard. Beyond the interlocutor was a featureless, even light. Samuel had to squint anytime he lookd away from the table in front of him.

That’s an oddly bodily thing to experience in the afterlife, thought Samuel.

The interlocutor had no visible eyes or mouth, and spoke with a thousand voices at once.

“Yes, Samuel, you are dead. Your ship crashed on its way to Antarctica,” said the interlocutor. “And I think you know where you’re going.”

Samuel shifted his leg and heard a chain clink while constraining it.

“No!” he exclaimed. “I stood up to the globalist conspiracy! I exposed the machinations of the lizard people! I stayed true to the word of the LORD!”

“Your wife and various mistresses would say otherwise,” said the interlocutor.

“I’m going to suffer for eternity because of an affair!” yelled Samuel. He slammed a fist into the table and the smell of smoke filled his nostrils.

“Affairs. Plural.” said the interlocutor.

Samuel started to cry. “No! Please! I’ll do anything! I’ll change my ways!”

“You’ll do anything?” said the interlocutor.

Samuel nodded vigorously and tearfully. The interlocutor laughed deeply.

“Well it just so happens that we have a very special job for you, Samuel. Do exactly as we command, and we’ll spare your soul. Fail…” the interlocutor said. Their voice trailed off.

Notes

This was written in 15 minutes in a Joy of Writing session.

Feedback from the Joy of Writing Group

Notes

This was written in 15 minutes during a Joy of Writing meetup.