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The Trial
#ForgottenReceipt
One day I died and Satan foot the bill. I had no idea there would be a cost involved, but apparently the legal and administrative fees of moving your soul from Earth to Limbo to Wherever-you're-lucky-or-unlucky-enough-to-go-next are considerable. Considering a moment before I was sitting pretty with a wife and a life, and in the next they were both crushed and extinguished against the impact of a drunk driver’s bonnet, I found the shock of the business card being placed in my disembodied hand, still shaking from disentangling itself from my own corpse, to be, well, considerable. By the time I had freed myself from the wreckage of my car a swarm of grey and navy-blue suited angels and demons had crowded around me offering their services, saying they worked for this or that firm, Azrael & Zekial: Attorneys At Law etc. specialising in motor vehicle expiration, and would be glad to help me process my litigation against the newly deceased man who had just caused my death, and defend me in court against the vast litany of misdemeanours the Afterstate had compiled against me from a lifetime of hidden observation.
As I numbly accepted their business cards in my unfeeling hands, I looked over to see if my wife had suffered the same fate but everything blurred beyond five feet from my eyes.
“You only see what you need to see,” grinned a demon next to me, “You’ll get used to it.”
Before I could respond to the seemingly well-meaning demon-lawyer, a murmur ran through the crowd and those gathered parted slightly to let through a particularly angelic demonic figure. I could not tell if this being belonged to Heaven or Hell, was man or woman, but I was unable to resist their allure as they confidently reached out their hand and shook mine.
“You must be David,” said the being, “My name is Jazareal. Please allow me to represent you in this troubled time.”
I could do nothing but nod and accept this invitation.
The next thing I remembered I was sitting alone in a lavish but practically accoutred office - Jazareal’s presumably. I had no concept of time anymore, so it seemed that no time passed before a feminine looking being entered the office with a tray and placed two cups of what I presumed was tea on the table, one close to me and another close to the couch opposite me.
“Mr Cooper, I presume?” said the woman, with eternal politeness, “Jazareal will be with you in just a moment.”
I thanked her and took a sip of the tea as she left the room. It tasted like luke-warm water but I wasn’t about to complain.
No sooner had I returned the cup to its saucer, did Jazareal enter and come over to me, all smiles. Offering professional pleasantries, he took a seat across from me and took a sip of his own tea.
“Firstly,” he began, ”apologies for the tea but in limbo nothing tastes like much of anything.”
“Then why do you offer it?” I blurted, not meaning to be rude, but my curiosity brimmed at so many features of this new world.
Jazareal was completely unfazed by my abrupt question, and answered sanguinely, “It is a simply a matter of hospitality....
One day I died and Satan foot the bill. I had no idea there would be a cost involved, but apparently the legal and administrative fees of moving your soul from Earth to Limbo to Wherever-you're-lucky-or-unlucky-enough-to-go-next are considerable. Considering a moment before I was sitting pretty with a wife and a life, and in the next they were both crushed and extinguished against the impact of a drunk driver’s bonnet, I found the shock of the business card being placed in my disembodied hand, still shaking from disentangling itself from my own corpse, to be, well, considerable. By the time I had freed myself from the wreckage of my car a swarm of grey and navy-blue suited angels and demons had crowded around me offering their services, saying they worked for this or that firm, Azrael & Zekial: Attorneys At Law etc. specialising in motor vehicle expiration, and would be glad to help me process my litigation against the newly deceased man who had just caused my death, and defend me in court against the vast litany of misdemeanours the Afterstate had compiled against me from a lifetime of hidden observation.
As I numbly accepted their business cards in my unfeeling hands, I looked over to see if my wife had suffered the same fate but everything blurred beyond five feet from my eyes.
“You only see what you need to see,” grinned a demon next to me, “You’ll get used to it.”
Before I could respond to the seemingly well-meaning demon-lawyer, a murmur ran through the crowd and those gathered parted slightly to let through a particularly angelic demonic figure. I could not tell if this being belonged to Heaven or Hell, was man or woman, but I was unable to resist their allure as they confidently reached out their hand and shook mine.
“You must be David,” said the being, “My name is Jazareal. Please allow me to represent you in this troubled time.”
I could do nothing but nod and accept this invitation.
The next thing I remembered I was sitting alone in a lavish but practically accoutred office - Jazareal’s presumably. I had no concept of time anymore, so it seemed that no time passed before a feminine looking being entered the office with a tray and placed two cups of what I presumed was tea on the table, one close to me and another close to the couch opposite me.
“Mr Cooper, I presume?” said the woman, with eternal politeness, “Jazareal will be with you in just a moment.”
I thanked her and took a sip of the tea as she left the room. It tasted like luke-warm water but I wasn’t about to complain.
No sooner had I returned the cup to its saucer, did Jazareal enter and come over to me, all smiles. Offering professional pleasantries, he took a seat across from me and took a sip of his own tea.
“Firstly,” he began, ”apologies for the tea but in limbo nothing tastes like much of anything.”
“Then why do you offer it?” I blurted, not meaning to be rude, but my curiosity brimmed at so many features of this new world.
Jazareal was completely unfazed by my abrupt question, and answered sanguinely, “It is a simply a matter of hospitality....
