Through the gates.
“Welcome. You’re almost at the gates of heaven. All you have to do now is go to this spot, and someone will come get you,” said the man.
“Oh—cool. Alright. Wait… fuck, am I dead?” he asked.
“Yep. Someone will explain everything when you get there,” the man replied.
He started walking toward the spot marked on the map. When he arrived, he could see the gates right in front of him.
They were closed, but he could see straight through them—everything on the other side. Excited, he puffed a cloud beneath him and sat down to wait.
After hours passed, the cloud he was sitting on began to drift away from the gates.
Confused, he stood and started walking again. After a while, he saw the man once more.
“Welcome! Now all you have to do is go to this spot, and someone will come get you,” the man repeated.
“Wait, but I just did that, and nothing happened,” he said.
“Don’t worry. Someone will come and explain,” the man replied.
He started walking again toward the gates.
“Alright. This time,” he muttered.
He arrived and stared through the gates at everything on the other side.
There was a noise to his right. When he turned back, the gates were gone.
He stood, walked on, and soon reached the man again.
“Welcome! Now all you have to do is go to this spot, and someone will come get you and let you in,” said the man.
“But I—am I doing something wrong? Am I missing something? Is this like… the last prank before heaven?” he asked, half-joking.
“Don’t worry. Someone will come and explain everything,” the man said.
Days passed. The routine repeated.
“Man, can I just do something else? I don’t even care anymore if I get in,” he said.
The man pulled out a cigarette and lit it by flicking his thumb in front of the tip.
“Welcome,” he said, taking a drag. He removed his wings like a backpack and scratched his back.
“Truth is,” he continued, exhaling smoke, “you made it. Just not to those gates.”
“All you have to do now is go to the spot… but no one is coming.”
He crushed the cigarette under his shoe and put the wings back on.
“Now I have to erase your memory. Every time you lose hope, you know—it’s part of the routine.”
He flicked the cigarette butt aside.
“See you in a bit,” he said.
“And welcome.”
