Just Like Heaven
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I smiled, a flame of satisfaction flickering in my chest as I showed the conductor my ticket and boarded the train. After my travails trying to check out of the Hotel on Limbo, I was glad to find that the process of buying a train ticket to Heaven was smooth. Indeed, it went with almost pneumatic efficiency.
So this is what excellent service is like, I thought as I sat down on a plush train seat. Perhaps it was a touch too soft, but I was eager to get as far from the hotel as possible and was forgiving of these small matters.
The train began to fill with other travelers, and the conductor announced over the speakers that we will be departing Limbo for Heaven shortly. Till then, there will be snacks and refreshments served in the dining car. I smiled beatifically at my fellow travelers and got up, eager to make my way over to indulge in the repast.
Alas, joy soon fades. I had only taken a couple of steps before finding that there was already a large queue of passengers waiting to enter the dining car. I craned my head to see how long the wait was, but to my dismay, I saw that it seemed to extend for at least the length of one train car.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that we ought to be on our way soon and that really, it was quite understandable that the other passengers would want some food too. My good mood was restored, I folded my hands and waited.
By the time I got to the dining car, the train was still stalled and I was ravenous. Unfortunately, all that remained of the snack buffet was a single graham cracker, along with two pieces of limp raspberries.
When I tried to bolster my rapidly flagging spirits by searching for a drink, the only thing on offer was flat, lukewarm tonic water. The staff was already beginning to clean up. I glumly munched on the graham cracker and flagged down one of the waiters.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I was wondering if I could purchase a meal. You see, I’m dreadfully hungry and it seems that there’s hardly any food left in the dining car’s snack buffet.”
The waiter looked at me with bovine placidity. “My apologies, but the dining car has been cleaned out for the day. We have a limited amount of food each day and we’ve used up the stock. But we do have plenty of drinks.”
I sighed. “Well, I suppose I can live without food for one day. It’s not as though I need it anyway. Thank you for your help.”
The waiter bowed his head and turned away, leaving me feeling somewhat despondent. There’s no point complaining about it now, I told myself. Let’s just try again tomorrow. Tomorrow will be better! I resolved to put my woes behind me and return to my seat.
But something else happened during the next few hours. A strange smell permeated the carriage. At first, I thought it might be coming from the restroom, so I headed straight there, thinking that maybe someone had forgotten to flush.
But when I arrived, the toilet was empty and the wash basin was dry. In fact, the whole room smelled strongly of lavender. As I walked back to my seat, the smell grew stronger, and became nauseating. By the time I reached my seat, I felt dizzy and faint. What’s going on? I wondered. Is this another case of the Train From Hell? Or am I being poisoned? Am I dying? Will I end up in hell after all?!
When I woke up, I found that I was lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling. It didn’t look like anything special—just a normal bedroom ceiling. Suddenly, I realized that I was inside a house. Not just any house either, but the most beautiful house I’d ever seen.
I was staring right into the eyes of a woman who sat in a chair across the room. She wore a black dress that hung loosely over her shoulders; she also wore a white lace veil covering her hair and face. Her skin was pale and smooth, almost translucent. She stared at me intently.
My heart began to pound wildly in my chest. I wanted to run away, but my body wouldn’t respond. I couldn’t even move a muscle. I felt paralyzed, as though my legs were encased in concrete. Then she spoke:
“You’re awake!”
Her voice was soft and gentle. She sounded kind, somehow motherly. And yet her words chilled my blood. They filled me with terror.
“How long…have I been asleep?”
She smiled and nodded. “Almost three months.”
Three months! That means I spent three months in Limbo. I thought I would never escape. Why did they leave me here? How could they leave me here alone? Where are my friends? I don’t want to be alone anymore!
As I lay there, trying to come to grips with what had happened to me, the woman leaned forward and took my hand. For some reason, I knew instinctively that I shouldn’t let go of hers. It was warm and moist. I squeezed it tightly. I still couldn’t speak, but I tried anyway: “What do you mean ‘almost three months? You’ve been keeping me captive for three months?!”
The woman looked surprised. “Oh, no,” she said softly. “We have kept you safe while you slept. We’ve taken care of everything for you. All your needs have been met.”
It made sense then. This was the House of Sleep. If I hadn’t woken up, I probably would have died in limbo forever. But this wasn’t Hell, not exactly. I’m not sure what it was, but this place felt less unpleasant than Hell. In fact, it felt pretty nice.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The woman smiled again. “My name is Mrs. Puffin. I am the proprietress of this establishment.”
Mrs. Puffin?! Is she kidding? Mrs. Puffin is the proprietor of the Hotel on Limbo. I guess so.
***
’A good story has many endings, depending on the mood of the reader.’ —Oscar Wilde
In the beginning, there was a great void. Nothing existed except darkness. Darkness was everywhere, without end, without boundary, without beginning. A single ray of light pierced the darkness and illuminated the space around us. From that point onward, our lives changed.
The light became a thing of wonder, and we came to worship it. The light brought warmth and hope, and we began to believe that life itself was created by light. When people talked about the origins of things, they referred to light as God. People called themselves “children of the light.”
Then one day, after millennia of worshipping light, someone realized that light didn’t actually exist.
And thus began the Dark Ages.
After thousands upon thousands of years of darkness, humankind finally rediscovered light. Humanity learned that light was merely an illusion created by something else—a thing which humans named the sun. Once they understood that the sun wasn’t actually shining, people stopped believing in it.
However, once mankind discovered the truth behind the sun, they also discovered another truth—that the sun was dying. Its rays were becoming weaker and weaker. Soon it wouldn’t shine at all.
Humankind panicked. What if the world went dark? What would become of us? Mankind searched desperately for ways to save the sun. They built massive structures, hoping that their combined power would be enough to keep the sun alive. But nothing worked. Even when they constructed giant mirrors to reflect sunlight back into space, the sun continued to fade.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. As the sun’s rays faded away, humanity began searching for other sources of energy. They found oil, coal, and natural gas, and harnessed them to produce electricity. Then they turned on the lights, illuminating cities, and towns across the globe.
But even though humanity had managed to illuminate their world, they’d forgotten what darkness meant. Now that they weren’t afraid of the night, they lost interest in the sun altogether. After all, who needed light when the nights were bright enough to read books by?
They forgot that the sun was dying, and now it’s too late.
Darkness reigns over the earth. Night comes earlier every year. Cities burn brightly during the day, only to extinguish themselves in the evening.
Now the sun has burned out completely. Only a small amount of dim light remains. And yet, despite the lack of sunlight, the planet continues to spin. Why? Because the moon shines brighter than ever before.
People don’t understand why the sun isn’t shining anymore. Some say that the sky is falling, others claim that the Earth is flat, and still others think the government is covering up aliens. No one knows what will happen next, or whether the sun will rise again.
The train was halted by a sudden snowstorm, causing me to miss my stop. It took hours to dig myself free from the drifts. My coat was covered in ice, and I couldn’t feel my fingers.
When I emerged from the storm, I saw two men fighting on the platform. One man wore a tuxedo and carried a cane. He swung his cane at his opponent, who wore a leather jacket and a cowboy hat.
“You’re not supposed to hit women,” said the man with the cane.
“Who asked you?” replied the man with the hat.
Their fight escalated quickly. Both men were swinging wildly, and soon their blows landed. A woman screamed as her husband fell to the ground clutching his arm. Two children stood nearby, watching wide-eyed.
As the fight ended, I approached the combatants. “Excuse me,” I said politely. “Would you mind stepping aside so that I can catch my ride home?”
Both men stepped away. I boarded the train but didn’t sit down immediately. Instead, I waited until we were well underway before sitting down. When I looked up, I noticed that both men had resumed their argument. This time the man in the tuxedo was holding a gun. His opponent held a knife.
“We need to end this,” said the man with the gun. “Otherwise someone could get hurt.”
“Someone already got hurt,” replied the man with the knife.
A young boy watched the argument unfold through the window of the dining car. He picked up a book, which he opened to the page where the story was about to begin. “Hello?” he shouted into the dark cabin. “Is anyone there?”
No answer came.
He continued reading.