Do dead people go to Heaven

I thought I would try to answer the question of whether dead people go to Heaven or not...

Miss Pretty was a quiet vegetarian and didn’t go out much for fear of being seen, but she had friends that came to visit and for whom she was grateful; they brought her things like chocolate or a small bottle of beer, and sometimes the occasional invitation that she would regretfully decline.

When she felt the pangs of loneliness coming on she would talk to her cat or the parrot she kept in a cage or listen to world radio in the kitchen over a large pot of tea, and sometimes a biscuit.

Every night at 7 o clock sharp she went to bed and listened to her favourite station on the wireless called: ‘Oh My God It’s a Cracker-box’ to which she would fall asleep to before the end, and the wireless would play all night, influencing her dreams until she woke up early in the morning and turned it off and began her day.

As of late she’d been wondering if dead people really did go to heaven, or whether they just got buried in the ground and that was it.

None of her friends knew the answer and said to her that maybe there was no way to really know but that it seemed likely that when you’re dead and gone you’re worm-bait and there’s nothing left to go anywhere but down in the ground, and being buried in a box under tons of earth didn’t seem like anyone’s idea of heaven.

But not to worry, for if it’s down under then you’ll not know anymore, and if it’s up to heaven, then all is well, right? So either way there’s nothing to worry over.

Yet Miss Pretty wanted to know for herself, if for no other reason than her peace of mind, now, while she could have peace of mind and certainly before old age enfeebled her beyond all inquiry.

She wasn’t much into praying but she did begin asking questions out loud as she pottered about her room, and so it shouldn’t have been such a surprise when she was answered out of the blue later that day as she was taking the air by the open window when a hard-pan of dead-light crept in and said:
“Do I speak to you?”

Miss Pretty took fright then and screamed and set her chimes to ringing which caused the hard-pan of dead-light to melt into the shadows to disappear, leaving Miss Pretty staring in horror at all the shadows of her room where it might be hiding to spring out at her, at any moment.

The X-ray dog that was lurking about in the bushes of the garden stuck its head in the open window and said:
“What’re you screaming about?” but only succeeded in giving Miss Pretty another fright, and two frights in one day was quite enough.

Miss Pretty ran for the door in the clothes and shoes she was wearing and grabbed her suitcase in passing and began fumbling with the locks and bolts of the door to get out, all the while with the fear of god in her that she would be caught by whatever was in the room behind her.

Out on the street, with eyes wild and moaning she hurried to escape and caused some concern to the pedestrians that were able to see her, but she was past and gone before they could quite realise, leaving them wondering if they really had seen her.

When she came to the train station she waited for the first train out of town and settled herself on a wooden seat in the empty station and hoped no one else would come along and disturb her.

After a while her head began to nod and before long, the ordeal which had worn her out drifted away as she dozed off to the hum of the trains travelling along the tracks to somewhere else.

The X-ray dog settled down near her to guard her against all comers and before long was asleep too.

End of part one

Image from Pixabay

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