by Geoff Wolak
* * *
Johno walked through the mist, kicking the swirls with his foot and studying the strange patterns. Then he was there, The Pearly Gates.
Suddenly there appeared a man at a table, a sofa and some drinks. ‘Your name?’ the man asked. Now he had wings.
‘Johno.’ He lit up.
‘No smoking in here.’
‘Really? Bugger. Can I smoke out here?’
The man nodded. ‘Yes, you’re outside.’
‘Outside of what?’
‘Did you not go to church, study the Bible?’
‘Not really.’
‘Christened?’
‘Dunno.’ A beer appeared. Johno sat, took a drag and tried the beer. ‘Ah ... that’s good.’
‘Guests outside may do as they please. But what you do is observed.’
‘Got any girls?’ A girl in a bikini appeared. She sat next to him. ‘Yeah, baby.’
The man with wings began, ‘When you are ready, you may present yourself for judgement.’
‘Oh.’ Johno gave it some thought. ‘How long do I get to prepare?’
‘Time has no meaning here, you may take as long as you like.’
‘Won’t be holding anyone else up, will I?’
The man with wings frowned very hard then shook his head. ‘Holding anyone else up?’
‘In the queue behind me.’
‘No.’
‘Oh ... right. Well, if you don’t mind, mate, could you - you know - piss off for a few hours.’
The man disappeared. The girl was shaking him by the shoulders. ‘Johno! Johno!’
He opened his eyes. ‘Marge’, his favourite ‘lady-friend’ leant over him.
‘Shopping! You said we’d go shopping. Come on, get up.’
