We had been waiting in line for what felt like centuries.
"God, this line is so boring, I could just die." Trevor said. All the other post-humans in line with us turned around and faced him with confused looks.
"...again." he eked out. Who knew you could feel embarassed in Heaven? All of the post-humans resumed doing nothing while waiting for the tour to start.
I didn't really know Trevor, or anyone else that was in line with me. I don't even remember dying. Or what happened yesterday. Or was that today? Time in heaven is weird. But one thing I knew for sure, was that I was filled with an overwhelming sense of pure, unadulterated, contentment. I just was.
"NEXT!" cried the angel, keeping the line moving along. I was one person away from entering the "Human Hall of Fame" and I was excited to learn about the mortals that really accomplished so much back on Earth. I think I was a historian when I was alive.
"Oh man, I can't wait to go inside! The ending always gets me! Or was it the beginning that was good? Oh man. I just hope the hall is good. Last season sucked!" said the small woman in front of me. She looked young, and wore a "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" t-shirt with a "Mathias" name-tag on top.
All those myths and rumors of getting what you want in heaven are somewhat true. You become that which you truly believe you were in life and everyone accepts you for it, no questions asked. The more experienced post-humans said that it was based on the idea that all we ever wanted back on Earth was to be loved and accepted for who we were. Heaven merely amplifies that.
"NEXT!" yelled the angel again. Mathias squeeked and dashed to the entrance of the hall where another angel stood. Large golden doors slowly opened and in she went. The angel tending the line made a few marks on the ledger in front of it, and then it looked back up at me.
Startled by its swift gaze, all I could do was stare. Like most angels, this one's face was a blurry, pixel cloud of shapes and shadows. As if permanently censored, and constantly changing, you could only identify an angel by its eyes and its hair. This angel's eyes were crystal-blue with its irises loosely resembling the dial of a grandfather clock. Its hair was long and white and draped perfectly on its shoulders, over its robes. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
"James 'Jimmy' Hinkley." the angel said. I searched its eyes and I silently let those gorgeous orbs scan my form from feet to forehead. Expressionless for a half-second, the curved shapes where its mouth should be curled and moved, as if it were chewing on a toffee it couldn't quite guess the flavor of. A moment passed and then no more movement near its mouth-area. "Born Monday, October 19th, 1987. Died Sunday, June 21st, 2015. I take it you felt like seeing the exhibit again?" the angel asked.
I nodded. Was I here before? I could have sworn this was my first time. Hinkley? Is that my last name? I could have sworn I was an Addams, a Washington, a Dean, or a... wait.
"NEXT!" the angel called, and whatever it was I was thinking about, I completely ignored and I walked up to the other angel minding the golden doors to the Hall.
"Enter James. And this time, don't forget the milk." the door guard said.
The golden doors opened and an all-encompassing light swallowed my body and then suddenly, darkness.