Writing prompt: Why would they ask you to bring a dozen boxes of pins?
|They have been after me for many years now. "They" being non-other than the IRS: Internal Revenue Services. I have dodged, ducked, and ignored them on every occasion I could. The reason for their success in finding me is that I died. |
My death was normal. I was breathing, eating, sleeping. Then next thing you know, I was not. The only thing not normal was that the first person I met was Dave from the IRS collections. No Jesus, Buddha, God or Goddess. Just Dave
Dave was a gentle man, but also firm. A man with purpose.
Our interaction went smoothly and was informative as to why I was talking to a representative of the IRS in what must have been the after life.
It went like this:
"Good day" Dave confidently said
"Good day?" I replied
"Yes, Good day" Dave spoke "At this point in eternity there is only one 'day' and for now it is 'a good day' '"
"Well that's nice" I thought
"Yes it is" Dave thought back
"Wait did i just hear your thought" I blurted out
"Yes my friend, you did" Dave replied "Your dead so there really is no barrier between thought and the spoken word."
"Well that's shocking" I thought to myself, while Dave just stood there smiling back.
As i continued to sit there taking in the moment. Me being dead, and Dave seeming to be a member of the IRS. I obviously had a question. "So Dave...Why am I talking to you? Not that its not pleasant, but i was expecting something completely different."
"God, The Pearly Gates, Jesus." He replied
"Well yes, something along those lines" I thought to him.
Dave smiled and began explaining the purpose for his visit. "I'm here not to judge or collect money. I'm actually not part of the IRS you know, but metaphorically the IRS is a good representation. I'm actually here to issue a request. Over your life there were many thoughts that kept you up at night. For example trying to shake a hand when you were supposed to fist bump, or farting on a first date. All these things are not allowed into heaven for they would disturb its perfection. So what you must do is search your soul from this life, to previous ones, and bring a dozen boxes of pins to me before you can enter the true afterlife."
"Wait" I replied "Pin's? what does a pin have to do with anything"
Dave calmly said" its just a representation of your small anxieties that follow you. Don't worry a Dozen boxes is no big deal. You'll have this done in no time"
"Odd" I replied.
Dave just smiled and walked off into a all pervading light.
Next thing I knew I saw my self messing up a fist bump with a friend, and realized how stupid that was. Then all a sudden i had box with a single pin in it. Looking at this box I thought "well this is silly" and I stood up and wandered of into the forever.