I could tell she wanted it
all painted lips and swaying hips
that's not a no
And out alone
on dance floor heels?
Just sayin' it
that's not a no
I'm only human, honey
I've got human needs

My fingers are unsteady when I adjust my necktie. My tie doesn't matter anymore, of course, but habits die hard. Apparently, they might even outlive the ones who maintain them.

I have no illusions of what this is. My fingers are gnarled and speckled with miscoloured spots: age's kind reminder of what it does to us. I was on my deathbed, surrounded by machines and Joachim, and Alexis and Iris and their little baby girl. That's the last thing I remember. Now I stand in a desolate, unfamiliar landscape that doesn't seem earthly.

"And it doesn't look like Heaven", I murmur sombrely; the silence is oppressive after being accustomed to the constant whirring and beeping of hospital machines.
It doesn't look like Hell either: the thought gives some degree of comfort. At least not the pit of fire that old scholars envisioned. For that I am grateful, but these billowing stretches of nothing but sand fill me with an ominous feeling. I never liked sand. I never liked the ocean. The vastness of it unsettled me. Those dark depths looked like they could swallow anything.

I… walk. My god, it's… I was in a wheelchair last time I was outside. But here I can walk. Even if it isn't Heaven there's miracles.

There seems to be nothing to do but walk. That or standing still. I see nothing here except the sand and something in the distance that could be rocks. So, walk it is. I might as well enjoy the feeling of that, for I already feel a chilling discomfort creeping up on me. Whatever this place is, it isn't restful. It's both too quiet and too empty to offer any feeling of security. Too… vast.

I wonder how long has passed on earth since I died. Maybe I'm still at the hospital? Maybe I'm lying in a coffin in church? Or in a freezer room. It's… so hard to imagine.

I had made peace with life. I was ready to go. I was ready to end.

I arranged to be dressed for the funeral while I was still dying, to have the comfort of dying in something other than a hospital gown and to save my children some trouble. I had arranged to say goodbye; not to be brought back to consciousness like this. My children, my grandchild, they were all… It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to-

Isn't that…? Is the light playing tricks on me? Over there in the sand, that is… that is Juliane's wedding bouquet. I remember it. She wanted pink roses with the lilies but the delivery had run late, so we got yellow ones…

Is she here…?

"Juliane…?"

I'm in Hell. There are no more doubts, no more hopes to deny it. I saw them. Them. Thank God I was far away. I haven't dared move since, I still sit pressed against this jutting rock and fear that every breath will give me away. I know what happens if they find me. I saw it.

I was going to wait until night and move unseen, but the sky is still red as if the sun was just about to set. I can't even say for sure if there is a sun. There is no day and night here. No respite, not even the brief escape of sleep. I don't think the creatures here sleep either.

It probably doesn't matter whether I stay in one place or move about, but moving eases the mind somewhat. I stay close to these islands of rock; the sand ocean is vast, easy to be spotted in. I hated the ocean. I never took Alexis and Joachim to the ocean. Juliane took them there while I…

I…

Why is that there? Why's it sitting on that rock? Did someone put it there so I would see it?

"Show yourself!"

Idiot! Did something hear? Is there something nearby? None of the beasts are in sight when I dart a glance over the jagged crest of the rock, but I can't stay. I can't let them find me. I jog from outcropping to outcropping, eyes skipping from place to place – I stumble, and the sharp grains bury like needles in my palms. No blood. Only pain.

Is that all I have left?

That apron on the rock, it haunts me even as I move. It just sat there - I don't know why I took it. She always hung that apron on the clothes' line when her husband wasn't home. No one knew our signal, no one knew that we… No, it can't be real. This light plays tricks on you. There's no shadows falling from the rocks. This whole place is out to twist one's head.

I hate to think it, but maybe a pit of flames would have been better in the end.

It's strange to think that life goes on as usual while I'm here. That my sons have coffee with their lunch bagels, still take out trash and wash their cars, while I'm here. I shouldn't hate them but I do. It's not their fault I'm here but it's… It's not fair. They shouldn't just leave me here. I was a good father. Not the best husband but I was a good father! Doesn't that count for anything? Is there no way to make up for mistakes? No forgiveness? They always spoke of forgiveness! What happened to that?! Where's my forgiveness?!

Just give me a chance… please…?

There's no day or night. No order or reason or anything for the mind to measure by. There's only a long, continuous nightmare of paranoia.

Nobody could ever deserve this.

I sit looking at the same godforsaken sand ocean I've been surrounded by since I came here. I tried to take out the shards from my hands, but some of them are in too deep. I didn't bleed. At first I found that a relief, thinking I wouldn't have to worry about infection and disease. Now when I look at my hands I wish they could have bled instead. It's been… long. I don't know how long – I doubt it matters. The flesh hasn't closed. The pain doesn't stop.

I see it clearer and clearer. The brilliance. The design. Yes, I see it. Eternal torture, without even the comfort of a torturer to hate.

Surely this proves there is a god?

My hands… my hands… They disgust me. I don't want them to be part of me. The palms are like flesh imitations of Swiss cheese; Swiss cheese with buckshot pepper grains glittering inside. It's surreal. The feeling when I prod them and the nubs of meat wiggle…

My meat. My dead, unbleeding, unhealing meat.

I'm glad I died with shoes on. The soles might wear down with time, but I'm glad.

Time. Does it even matter here? I'm dead, this is Hell. The only thing time does is prolong my suffering. The longer I run from the demons the longer it will last, and still… I was ready to die peacefully in my hospital bed. I don't think I'm ready to die with an arm through my chest and a hungry demon panting in my face. No, I don't want to die like that.

Sweet God I don't want to die like that!

It's not like it would end there, is it? That isn't the design. There's worse things waiting after you get eaten, I know it. Who do they think they're fooling? This won't end. Ever.

Haha, it won't end! Immortal in eternity and Life everafter, the Kingdome come - I see it now! You thought you could fool me?! I see Your great design, Almighty! I see it and I embrace it!

I was blind in life, but I see now. I am the Prophet and I have the eyes of God within me. God is in me, and I am in God, and God wants a good fuck. God has been waiting a long time for a fuck with all those fine nurses at the hospital and no private time for me and you, old fellow. We have all eternity now just to ourselves.

We have all eternity and I will give you all the action you've ever wanted.