Try not to die too soon, if you can help it ' it's ever so boring.
I've been here two days, with absolutely nothing to do. George, the chap they've put me in with, says we are supposed to contemplate and prepare ourselves for the final judgement.

It's all very well for him, he's religious and things look as though they are turning out much as he expected, but it's a big shock to me.
I always thought that when you were dead, you were dead ' lights out, gone, nothing.

I believed all those experts, on television, who told us over and over again that the brain is just a complex cluster of electric circuits and when death occurs it simply switches off and disintegrates?.

George says 'They are all prats and are sent by the Devil to confuse us'� ' Well, they sure as hell confused me and should a Salvation Army chap be calling people prats?

Look at me now, supposed to be contemplating but I'm wondering what I'm missing on the box. The funny thing is, I never feel hungry or thirsty or anything, which is just as well because there's absolutely nothing to eat or drink in here and not a soul has been in to see if we are alright. George says that they'll come soon enough and he'll be alright ' says he's definitely saved and is looking forward to his reward - but I should try and think up some good excuses and it's no good lying because they've got everything, you've ever done, written down in a golden book.
I've given it some thought and I have decided to plead ignorance ' say that I'm very sorry and wish I had listened more to what our vicar was saying instead of dreaming about what she'd got on under her vestments. George says that won't do ' anybody can say sorry after and he doesn't agree with women priests, anyway, no matter what they wear under their vestments.

We are both wearing, sort of, white track suits. George knows about these things ' he's read the bible - right through, twenty nine times ' he says that these bodies are for cosmetic purposes only, just till we get used to being spirits.

'They're not like the bodies we had before -nothing works, like it used to'� he says 'We are in kind of limbo, neither one thing nor the other - a progression from earthly blood to the spiritual'�
I say that he shouldn't think me ungrateful but I prefer to keep my old earthly blood if you don't mind.
'The Co-ops got that'� he says ' your blood has been pumped out of you and replaced with chemicals '
I don't like the way this conversation is going, so to change the subject I ask him about the circumstances of his passing.
'Anno Domini ' he says, without elaborating
'And you?'� he asks.
'Massive heart attack'� I say ' The home help bent down in that short skirt and it took my breath away'�
I half expected him to laugh, but he didn't.
Suddenly, a chap in a grey suit appeared. A typical civil servant type.
'John?' he asked looking down at his clipboard.
I put my hand up and smiled
'Go through door 'A' ' he said 'you've just scraped into paradise'
'Well done.' George exclaimed 'let's go through together.'
'Not you mate.' The man said, holding his arm out 'you've still got a lot of explaining to do about Sister Anna and what actually happened with her banner.'

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