The Inbetween

I float back to the place I had left only nine months ago. Everything is still the same. The clouds are still white, for if it turns grey, we will need to find ourself another fresh white cloud. The cloud is huge and it even has around 8 floors, each with a different purpose. White pillars hold up every floor, and the clouds are more like mist than snow, except not wet.

The bottom floor is for the people that have just died, and then they would go up a floor to register and record how they died. The third floor up, you get your good and bad boxes. On the fourth floor, you have your boxes weighed, and you are given a number in which the inbetweeners on the fifth floor would put into their computers and calculate what life would be best for you next. On the sixth floor is the court, people who are not satisfied with what life they are given or had a complaint about anything went there and are judged. No lawyers unfortunately, you just had to prove yourself. The seventh floor is the employment floor. When someone dies, and does not want to go straight back to life again, whether they just don't feel like it or whether they are waiting for another soul, they can get employed. They may become an inbetweener, a guardian angel, or a judge. The eighth floor is the highest and has the most sunshine. Souls waiting for their next life could stop there, relax, and enjoy being....dead. Souls that meet again after death are together again and thus the eighth floor. But right now, only the sixth floor matters to me.

The End

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