There was a sharp memory of screams, the sound of tortured metal, sharp pain, as the airliner impacted the mountain wall that suddenly loomed out of the foggy night.
Then, like the snapping of a light switch, a featureless grey void without sound or form.
Slowly there was the impression of others, resolving into the presence of the fellow passengers, moving towards something in the distance, although details were impossible to distinguish.
The Baptist, who had been trying to convert all around with obvious zeal, exclaimed : “Oh joy, can you all not see the Pearly Gates before us!”
“It is Saint Peter,” said the Catholic, nervously thumbing a rosary, “judging all, and only allowing the Faithful to pass.”
“With those horns and forked tail, accompanied by those imps and demons?” smirked the Satanist, rushing forward to join into the mayhem glimpsed ahead.
“Unbeliever!” scoffed the Moslem, “Can you not see the Perfumed Garden, guarded by Allah’s own Angels, sure to bar entrance to all but the Dutiful and Pious!”
“Ah,” nodded the Buddhist sagely, “it is the plane of Bardo, where all things imagined are known, as you wait for the next turn of the Wheel.”
“What are you all going on about?” asked the Agnostic, “It just looks like the airport arrivals lounge, did I sleep through something?”
And so, one by one, the recently dead chose their oh so personal afterlife, framed by the individual belief they had held.
Believe it or not, the spark for this piece came from a vague reference in a discussion on a completely unrelated topic on Facebook recently (origin hidden to protect the innocent).
The image used sourced over the open internet, no artist was credited. (search 'afterlife')
PS - Later change to Agnostic for line 9. : Thanks to a comment by reader Forest, who noted that more likely an Atheist would actually just vanish into the void.
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