216 The Loving Road Toward Eternal Reward

It's funny how we all relate to life conceptually. To some, life's cheap; to others, priceless. I suppose it has to do with which type of life one lives. Yet, in the objective universe, there seems a hierarchy. The lowly bug fried on an electrified wire will not haunt anyone like killing a child with a car. A dramatic contrast, certainly.

As he aged, Tennyson became preoccupied with life as its own concept. He thought about his accomplishments; he regretted missed opportunities. Lost loves, won conquests, and the lies and honesty between them dwelled in his consciousness. His consciousness became his conscience, the closer to death he got.

Even in Intensive Care, tubes and wires occupying all the usual and even some new orifices, he wondered about impending death.

He wasn't afraid. He'd found God.

He made peace with Him. He waxed forgiving. He grew, even while dying, into loving. He embraced Christ. Now he intended to gladly hand over his soul, his existential consciousness, to God Almighty. After all, He was his Father. A loving father. A forgiving father.

His electrocardiogram began to look worrisome. The doctors knew it wouldn't be long, telling his loved ones so.

Tennyson closed his mind's eye.

Finding peace, he embarked on a road paved just for him, flanked by already-departed parents, friends, and relatives. Never have smiles been so welcoming, he thought, proceeding on the bespoke golden path.

In the distance he saw the light.

The proverbial light. The dazzling illumination that is the stuff of near-death experiences. The light! Legendary...

...and--apparently--true.

It was beautiful, warm, and inviting. The closer he got to it, the more he realized he was approaching the real reason for life--now put into the perspective of afterlife itself!

Unlike those who returned from their near-death experiences, his would be different, for he was not to return. He was being admitted to his eternal reward. Unlike those who had returned from their near death experiences, he got close enough to the light to touch it.

"They fall for it every time," St. Peter guffawed when he heard the loud ZAP! at the electrified Pearly Gates.

"I know," God answered. "The little pests just can't resist."

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AUTHOR'S NOTES:

For Saturday, August 3, Day 216 of the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge

366 WORDS (without A/N or PS)

Accompaniment photos were AI-generated but the volts were not.

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THIS CHALLENGE GRINDS ON, 366 WORDS AT A TIME...

There are currently three surviving Vocal writers still participating in the insane 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge:

• L.C. Schäfer, challenge originator

• Rachel Deeming

• Gerard DiLeo (some other guy)

Read them. Support them. And if there's only one true religion, choose wisely.