Archive for the 'Issue 1.16' Category

Issue 1.16

Issue 1.16 (450px)

Stairway to Heaven II

1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (3 votes, average: 4 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

I started up the first set of steps, the children behind me still chanting words of encouragement. At the first landing, I was met by a small man, cloaked in robes of deep purple. His face was nearly hidden, and he didn’t look up as he asked, “Up or down?”

I thought for a minute. Of course I was trying to go up. Why would he ask?
“What are my options?”
“Up or down.”
I looked back at the kids, who were all pointing to the top of the steps, gesturing wildly for me to answet correctly.
“Up, I guess.”
“That is correct. Proceed, Mark.”
“How do you know my name?”
“You are expected. Please proceed, and stay on the steps.”
He sat down in the corner of the landing and folded his arms. His head dropped and his breathing slowed.
With no other choices obvious, and with his adminition to continue, I went up the next flights of steps. At the next landing, there was another man. This one was standing tall, dressed in robes of bright orange.
“Hello, Mark. I’m glad you’re here. I am going to answer some of your questions.”
Good, I thought. Now we’re getting somewhere..
“Okay. What’s going on?”
“You died in the bus accident, Mark. I’m sure you knew that already. But these steps are the qualifications you need to enter the eternities. You will be asked questions about your life and feelings at each landing, and your answers, and any discussions, will be used to determine your worthiness to continue.”
“What question are you going to ask?”
“I have two questions. You may not pass if you give the incorrect answers, and I already know the truth, so please answer honestly.”
Continue reading ‘Stairway to Heaven II’

200 Cars

1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (3 votes, average: 3.67 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

John heard the door close, then the footsteps. His grandmother
approached, and he turned his head daring to look upon her face. Her
eyes betrayed what her other features would not. She paused in front
of John, spending a moment in her memories, and despite her efforts,
a single tear formed, and blinked away, rolled down her cheek.

“You can go in. He’ll be so glad you’re here.”

John stood, hugged this wonderful woman, then pulled away. The walk
down this small hall seemed longer now than when he was a child.
Sunlight spilled in unmercifully through each window, when it should
have been raining. How dare cheeriness intrude into this solemn,
final day? The door knob turned, the hinges groaned slightly, and
then John was inside, alone with his Grandfather.

Even under the blankets and sheets, John’s grandfather’s bulk was
visible. Fed a diet of red meat and potatoes for seventy some odd
years will do that. The slow up and down, up and down, of the covers
showed John there wasn’t much time left. The labored breathing, the
fluid gurgle, it all meant somewhere in this room death was waiting
silently ready to claim another victim.

“Hello Grand Pa.” John found it took great courage to grab the man’s
hand. The hand felt cold, stiff, foreign. These were the hands that
helped build so much of America. The local lake was scooped out with
his own tractors, the pit needed to contain the water. These hands
cradled babies, built companies, held lovers. They, he, deserved so
much better.

Continue reading ‘200 Cars’