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[WP] You are a seemingly normal person, but with one uncanny ability; to see other people’s true intent. You become famous, revered by spy agencies, loathed by politicians. One afternoon, you meet someone else with this ability, and the world becomes terrified of you.
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"But did you see the peninsula splitting into war?" He asked, looking straightforward at a place that hovered between the center of my skull and right through the wall behind me.
I had.
"No," I said, then donned what I imagined to be the weary face of a man who has tried to do good and has instead done evil. "No I thought that removing that corrupt tyrant would be a good thing."
There was a pause that hovered long enough for my worry to deepen before the man smiled, "well well, cant fault you for that, can we?"
"And who are we exactly?" I asked. "Seems to be I'm kind of hazy remembering that."
The man smiled and moved a white sheet of paper to the right on the table a few inches, "dont worry, your memory will return soon. As for who we are, who do you think we are? Maybe you could read my intention."
I had tried, and to the grinding horror of one who has just discovered that their best and only weapon has been taken from him, I found that I could not. I could not read this man's intention.
"I did, just a bunch of vague 'protect the motherland' sort of stuff they teach you in bootcamp, soldier."
The man's smile deepened. He picked up the piece of paper and showed me the other side. On it was a complex device.
"Nice drawing," I said, "is this some new rorshach test?"
"No." He said, "it is the Unholy Aligment. A guide used by the darkness to plot their eventual war." He strode around the desk to stand before me and then he examined his hands, "do you know where I got it? Where I got the vision?"
So... there were others. "From... him?" I said, secretly hoping that this man and I shared the same awful deal.
The man clicked his tongue then pointed above him. Ah, they've started too.
"You know," I began casually, "I'll just come back if you kill me, I'll come back as a killer true, I'll rape your daughters and burn your fields, I'll fight alongside the great terrors of hell a thousand fold stronger, as a soldier of the great beast."
He shrugged.
"So then," I said, "the war has begun."
The other man pulled the trigger.
"No," he said and turned to look up at heaven, "now it has."
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THUNK THUNK THUNK.. thWACK............ THUNK.
... and all is dark.
Suddenly a pinhole light emerges after considerable deprivation of the visual sense. June Cappi reaches to brush her thick brunette hair with her hands but found they could not be made animate. She struggles and a ringing sound emanates inside her thumping head; painful, like standing too close to a jet at takeoff. The singular pinhole of light starts to accumulate as her retinas slowly adjust.
Then it occurs: she’s been captured. There’s a bag on her head. She then remembers: 2 men jumped her, hit her, loaded her into a truck. Where was she now?
A man of considerable muscular size yanks the woven cloth bag off her head, ripping strands of hair wrapped in the fabric of the rope along with it. June is kicked to the ground with a rudeness of force, buckling her tiny body into a fetal position. Bruised and shaky, her eyes twitch with every muscular pain, she lifts her head to see her environment. The questions in her mind continue to run rabid like a rat locked in a water filed bucket, starving, and minutes from death. Her heartbeat races so hard her chest feels tight, increasing her anxiety; now she fears death from the betrayal of her own body.
Alas, instead of a dirty warehouse, or an abandoned crack house, or maybe even an old run down mall parking lot— alas, no, she saw a setting strikingly familiar. A round room, a round table, a dim light like a spot light and 4 men sitting their hands tied forward just like hers. The muscular mass of a man yanked her up by her hair and placed her at the table. He sighs and gathers a black folder with variously scattered papers.
June already knew what was going on, well, sort of. She recognized the room, the setting, but it concerned her as to why these people knew about this particular arrangement.
Ms. June Cappi was an unusual young lady in possession of unusual old knowledge. She was one of only a handful of people alive in modern times who understood old magic, but please, lets distinguish this common sense definition of magic. What we today call magic is old knowledge, not forgotten knowledge, purposefully erased knowledge. Propaganda filled misinformation would be a fitting denotation of “magic”.
For example, the eerily silent power of the lightbulb would be magical 300 years ago. Such is this knowledge: it’s only magical due to its erasure from the historical cannon.
She acquired this knowledge from a questionably legit source: past life hypnosis. Yet it was legitimate enough that her techniques enlightened the attention of more enlightened folks of a upper crust caste, a class of folks above the highest of classes. Invisible puppeteers of invisible destinies. Consider them your fallen angels of an Earthly realm. This curator class of humanity understood that knowledge is power thus the best way to keep the sheepish masses in order was to curate the knowledge. Allow education, but nothing of any true substance. Allow a trade and a skill for middle class enslavement but never the keys to the whole castle.
At this dire, yet curious, sliver of time June wondered where the most important item for this arrangement was: a cone of incense in a burner in the middle.
You see, in June’s past life she was a sorceress, her “magic” was wide and varied but she had an important skill handy to those in power, but also frightening to those in power: she could extract the truth from anyone. She was the inventor of a fool proof method of truth gathering.
You needed the following:
A round enclosed room with as little draft as possible.
A round table.
Your suspect and a few actors to work as controls.
Incense placed in the middle of the table.
The investigator, (in this case usually the sorcerer.)
This wasn’t magic, it was science. A guilty person would have involuntary cardio-pulmonary distress. This distress increases the rate of respiration. In a sealed round room with no air flow, if the investor would start to question the room, the smoke would naturally drift towards the guilty person. It was like a kiss of death from a wafting snake every time.
Now the muscular meat wall of man placed the incense in the middle of the rotund wooden table. He opens the folder.... Within a few words she already knew why she was there. These puppet masters were on to her and they wanted to use her own technique from millennia ago against her. What other secrets did this innocent girl hold?
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[WP] You are a seemingly normal person, but with one uncanny ability; to see other people’s true intent. You become famous, revered by spy agencies, loathed by politicians. One afternoon, you meet someone else with this ability, and the world becomes terrified of you.
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They don't always believe me at first.
Why would they want to? When someone looks someone straight in the eye and tells them exactly what they're thinking, everything within them is hard wired to believe that it's just a coincidence. It's uncanny. It's unbelievable.
It started as a feeling. When I was a child my world was just as simple as any other, with the exception of being able to tell with stunning accuracy exactly when my kingdergarten teacher was sick of being at her job. I understood people pretty fast. Making friends was easy because I could tell exactly what someone wanted out of me. Did they want to laugh? To date me? To be me? Sometimes. I was popular in high school, a master of understanding.
I wanted to be a psychologist. I wanted to help people, to teach them how to cope in the world when they were struggling with something they couldn't understand; themselves.
It was when I met Kenny Bergarwick that my plans changed.
He was not a kind man. He was psychopath, a narcissist. He was greedy and unkempt, and he smelled like ozone. He lurked past me on the glittering city streets one night by chance, hunched over in a ratty leather coat and smoking a Marlboro black, his cracked lips blowing smoke into the foggy air. A club beat its music in my bones to my right, and as I turned to watch him walk down the street one of my girlfriends called for my attention. My skin crawled. Something horrible was about to happen. I had never felt such a gut-clenching wave of impending terror before in my life. I was certain of one thing; this man was up to no good.
"I'll be right back!" I called over to my friends, who stood at the entrance of the club, blue and yellow light bursting behind their backs. They called after me in drunken protest, but I was already following the man down the block, pushing past the people moving the in opposite direction. I could see his messy hair before me in the crowd, and then he ducked to the right into an alleyway.
I hurried, searching desperately, and took what I was sure was the same right. The alley way was dark, and I moved forward, my heels clacking noisily in the sudden quiet before with a shock and a *clang* my right foot punched through a grate in the ground.
I cursed loudly, yanking hard at my leg, and just as I was sure I got it free two hands grabbed my shoulders and shoved me forward hard, snapping my heel. I screamed, scrambling to my feet, unsteady as I turned around to face who I would come to know as Kenny. He sneered at me, looking me up and down with distaste. It wasn't often that someone looked at me with such disgust, and I felt it deep in my gut. This man didn't want to hurt me, but he might.
"Are you following me?" He snarled. I shook my head, and in an attempt at self preservation and a fit of terror, turned and vomited hard next to the dumpster. He took at step back, and when I lifted my head I saw a flash of light beneath his jacket, and wires. "Well stay out of me way," he snarled, and began to walk away. *"Crazy drunk..."*
I watched him walk away, wiping the corner of my mouth. My hazy brain said that I should call the cops. Frantically, I stumbled back out on to the street, trying to find an address as I dialed.
"Hello, yes? I would like to report a bomb threat."
They apprehended him that night before any damage was done. It turns out in a drunken rage he was going to kill his ex-boyfriend who he had caught cheating on him several days prior. It was then that I realized, should I be in the right place at the right time, I could save a lot more people than I had ever thought.
I didn't know that in the end it would mean I would do just the opposite.
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The world was ending, and only the Judge could save it.
It was a simple message, easy to remember. Words that had once glimmered upon the neon marquees of New Vegas now rang throughout the obsidian plaza of the Capital. Deceit and half-truths had become the currency of what was left of Earth, and the Judge was their broker.
Samuel shielded his eyes as the Senator’s tinted window began to lower. Even beneath his shades, the light was a hideous thing. More pressingly, the Senator risked unnecessary exposure. Samuel had encountered many setbacks on his quest to the top, but he could not come back from the dead.
Of course, the old man harbored no ill intentions. Samuel could hear the song of the Senator’s heart as loudly as the chanting outside the dark car. Senator Leatherman had no desire to betray the man beside him; he was as honest and trusting as they came.
Frowning, Samuel realized the Senator had taken it upon himself to let another inside. It was Haley Comika, one of the Senator’s trusted members inside the media. Samuel allowed himself to relax; her intentions were as pure as the Senator’s.
She sought the truth. He could understand that.
“Ms. Comika,” Samuel greeted her once the door had closed.
The woman brushed the dark hair from her eyes. “So, you’re traveling *with* the Senator then?” She pulled the screen from her pocket and documented the fact. “I thought for sure you’d arrive on a white horse or perhaps a regal palanquin. That is what *the Judge* would do after all.”
Samuel flashed his best grin. “I’ve had enough of putting on a show for one lifetime.”
“And you think being elected World Leader will put a stop to that?”
He considered her words, turning to stare at the crowd gathered outside. It had been estimated at nearly three-quarters of the country’s remaining population, well over a hundred thousand. They had come from across the seven city-states to witness his inauguration. They were waiting on the scene the reporter had described, making the mundane car a perfect means of arrival.
“How does it feel to be just moments away from holding complete power?” Haley asked as the machine waded through the mob. “Has anything changed for you along the way? You were beloved as the head of Intelligence, do you think you can maintain nearly unanimous approval?”
“Must we do this now?” Samuel asked.
The woman shrugged. “Was it not you that requested the Senator to arrange an interview to – how did you put it – to reflect the man behind the Judge?”
“Fair enough.” Samuel nodded. Ms. Comika had potential. Like Leatherman, her strings would be easy enough to wrap around his fingers. But Samuel had had enough of acting on a small scale. After a decade of pulling strings, he was more than ready to control them all.
As the Complex grew closer, Samuel thought back to when he had first discovered his hidden talent. He had used it foolishly for years before discovering his purpose. Shortly after coming to the capital, he had distinguished himself from the other agents, quickly gaining control of the country’s militia. It was inside the reinforced walls of the very building to which he now rode where he had earned his name.
For a time, Samuel had actually believed himself to be like the judges of old. He had valued his reputation as righteous and just. He had thought his work could end the countless wars, that his ability could save the world from the growing darkness and flood it with light.
He hadn’t been wrong. He just needed to operate on a larger scale.
“What’s the matter?” Samuel asked instinctively as the mood within the car shifted.
Leatherman had pulled his screen from his pocket and was chewing nervously on his bottom lip. He was *undecided* on what to do. The reporter’s intentions hadn’t changed at all.
What had the Senator seen? Samuel snatched the devise from the old man’s hands and stared at the screen in muted surprise.
*You’ve Been Judged: World Leader to decide on the fate of every man…*
The Senator had been reading an article posted by–
“I won’t let you get away with this,” the reporter hissed as she threw open the car door and raced into the suddenly chaotic plaza. Thousands fled in every direction, throwing the old and weak to the ground in their efforts to escape.
Samuel watched angrily through the window as she was lost in the rush. He pulled the screen from his jacket pocket and initiated the containment protocol. There was no telling how many had already escaped.
How had the woman known his plan? He had never written it down. Why wouldn’t she have released it before the inauguration? Unless she needed to be close to him. Unless…
“Is it … is it true?” the Senator asked, his voice quivering. “You’re going to … judge us all?”
The Judge nodded. “The world must change.”
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[WP] You finally decided to clean out that closet you can't possibly stuff anything else in. Working through it, you come to a large duffel bag in the back corner. When you unzip it you see a perfectly preserved dead clone of you.
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You get used to a lot of things on the space station. The weightlessness, the loneliness, the pervading sense of peace every time you looked out the silicate windows down onto Nimea… even the three minutes on average it takes for messages to be transmitted to the nearest base station. My daily updates are fired off one-way, so there’s no need to wait around. For the live transmissions, I had a tablet permanently docked at the console to help me while away the time as I waited for the next question or answer. Most days, that helped keep me in a good mood.
But not today.
Today, the interval between messages was *excruciating*.
“Stop asking me all these stupid questions!” I said, as I pounded the console. It didn’t make the signals go any faster, but it was the salve for the anger burning inside me. “Are you even hearing what I have to say? Alison, was it? For goodness sakes, get someone else with half a brain on the line! Get Captain Myers! I want someone to give me proper guidance, or I swear, I’m going to activate the failsafe and shut this whole station down! I mean it!”
I waited. It was silent throughout the station. I had turned off the ambient music, and even set the maintenance androids on standby so that I wouldn’t have to hear their incessant whirring. Climate control indicators confirmed that the temperature was correctly set, but the streams of sweat running down my back disagreed.
The speakers crackled to life as Alison’s response from base station trickled in.
“Dr Harry Torsten, I repeat, we hear you and we are aware of your situation. Emergency pods *have* been dispatched to your location. We are concerned for your welfare, so please answer us as best you can. We are trying our best to ensure that you are safe. When you are calm again, please inform us of the following: are there any lesions on your skin? Is your memory functioning as per normal? Can you give us a glucose reading?”
“No! There are no lesions on my skin! I am unhurt! I repeat, I’m *not* the one who is hurt! Yes, my memory is working just fine! Was I not clear when I recounted to you what I discovered in my bunk? And yes, my glucose levels are a bit on the low side, because I was about to have breakfast *when I was interrupted by my discovery of my dead body!* Is that good enough for you?”
My right fist struck the tablet so hard that it crashed to the floor. They just didn’t get the severity of the situation. What did any of this have to do with my emergency? Why couldn’t they give me any useful advice at all? The electronic archives on the Panopticon were comprehensive, and I had been told that the entirety of mankind’s knowledge had been uploaded onto the diamonite-drives on the station. A thousand protocols had been designed to help me cope with any situation I could possibly encounter up here. Yet, thorough as they were, not a single one of them contained any advice on how to deal with finding a dead clone of yourself.
That was what it had to be. The resemblance was one thing, but the scarring? The unevenness of my (his) left arm where the break had not healed properly all those years ago? Even the tiny tattoo behind my left ear, the everlasting memento I had taken away from Ibiza? The body I had found at the back of my closet was an exact copy of me. The only difference between us, was that I was alive.
“Please, Dr Torsten. Harry. Stay in control. Now tell us, where is the body you found? Where is its current location? Are you sure that it was inanimate? How long ago was that? Did you run it through the medical scanners?”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! You’re not the one out here! I’ve placed it in the med chamber, and yes I’m damn sure it’s dead! The scanners confirmed that it was me, and I had to override it before it sent you the report that I had died! How long ago? What does it matter? I came here straight to tell you about it!”
“Thank you. Captain Myers has been informed, and we are convening a task force to help you through this. Can you please confirm the following while we evaluate your options – has there been any breach into the Panopticon? What are the bacterial readings in the station? Did the energy radars detect any heightened pulses in the last twelve hours?”
I sighed. The idiots would have me doing this all day. “No, no breach. I just checked, the hull holds strong. Bacterial levels are negligible, and there have not been any-”
The console lights flashed right in the middle of my sentence, and the speakers buzzed again. That was strange. It was standard protocol for one party to complete their transmissions before the other replied. They should have waited until they completely received my message before they spoke again. Either a malfunction, or someone must have accidentally triggered the transmission protocols. Captain Myers’ disembodied voice floated through and filled the room.
“… that we still don’t know how they appear? This is the sixth incident, gentlemen! The sixth time it has happened, and we are nowhere closer to finding out how or why it happens? Well, it’s not magic, I can tell you that! Run all the damn tests you need! Find out how Harry keeps cloning himself, find out what triggers them back to life, and for bloody hell’s sake, please find out what turns them hostile towards each other? The last thing we need is… Alison! Alison Briggs! Are you bloody pressing… get her damn hand away from the-”
The transmission cut off, and the console fell dark and silent again.
I looked out the window at Nimea, that lush-green wonder I had been sent here to study. That inexplicable anomaly in the universe which, despite the hostility of its environment, was home to no less than a thousand different species. I had not had time to file my report, but my latest observations had confirmed that life on the planet was marked by long periods of peace, followed by sharp, violent bursts of aggression. Then, when it seemed that life would wipe itself out, it would flourish again, in a never-ending cycle.
From a couple of rooms away, I heard a tiny *ding* as the medical scanners flared to life. They only ever activated when there was a subject for them to work on.
“Crap,” I heard myself say.
---
/r/rarelyfunny
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I started hauling out clothes that I still had from the third grade, a bloody knife, and some fingers along with it. How was I able to forget these old tools and trophies of mine. The memories are just coming back to me. The school teacher, the bully, the ex-friend—they all deserved to die, but it is fun looking back on those times. As I pulled out the jar of decaying fingers, I noticed a duffel bag was hiding away from me. Nothing can get past my sight. If I recall correctly though, I never used something so professional like a duffel bag, strange. Hauling out the large bag and unzipping it, I was greeted by myself. Everything was the same. She looked exactly like me. Her hair was smooth and silver with her body tone was magnificent. I wondered how I tasted? Firing up the barbecue and the chainsaw, I got to work and prepared my dinner. A calf, a bicep, and maybe a few fingers—it all sounds . . . delicious. My mouth watered as the skin boiled off my pristine muscles. Drool started to escape my mouth as I waited for the perfect dinner. I was done barbecuing. There was some much to eat that I treated it like a smorgasbord. It was soo good. The calves were really where the best meat was. Luckily, I still had more left over for another day. Maybe some brain or liver next time.
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[WP] Humanity is close to discovering immortality, but you, a 900 year old alchemist, want to keep the secret to yourself.
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**On the news today, they said scientists at MIT have managed to control nanotechnology to sustain human life far longer than natural. In effect, they said, humans could become immortal by 2040. From what I heard they plan on using nanobots – tiny little machines that run through your body and repair organs, create new cells, and fight off diseases. “Human immortality is here, finally,” the lady said.**
**Finally.**
**It took them 900 years to catch up to me but, finally, they did it. I cannot allow this. I did not risk everything—my men, an entire fleet of ships, my sanity—for some fools playing God in a laboratory. No doubt they’ll see it as a gift, try to sell it on to the highest bidder, and think they have cheated death. Fools! You cannot cheat death. Trust me.**
**I have seen mankind rip itself apart many times over, from the Spanish Armada to the U.S. Civil War, to both World Wars. The nanobots may be able to refresh and renew your organs and your cells but they cannot regenerate limbs. Whatever will they do with men with no arms, or legs, or eyes, or faces who do nothing but live forever.**
**This gift, as they call it, is nothing but a curse. I wish I had never supped from that golden chalice. I curse the day I got on that ship and sailed to the jungles. I was but a boy then, a foolish boy. Like these scientists.**
**I am begging you. Imploring you. Please do not tamper or toy with human mortality. That is the greatest gift. It allows us to live and run and love and and and and and and and and…**
“Margaret!” The nurse calls to the other room.
“Yes?”
“His computer speech thing is acting up again!”
“Just leave it! He’ll be fine laying there and watching the news.”
The nurse gets up from her chair, and switches the television off, “Try get some sleep, sir. You’ve been here a long time.” She leaves and closes the door.
**and and and and. Who would want to be immortal and trapped for eternity in their body?**
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Nicholas Flamel didn't think of toppling humanity in night. He didn't.
Nicholas Flamel had been born in 1330, and lived as a bookseller and owned and ran two shops in Paris, France. He lived an ordinary life, until one day he bought a metal-bound book, in which the letters seemed to be in different languages and physically shifted.
The book? The secrets it held were wondrous.
Magic, arcane spells, the ability to turn anything to gold. Immortality.
He had wandered the Earth since 1418, when he faked his death, looking for more and more wisdom. He didn't have plans for the wisdom yet, but he wanted it.
He had watched everything. Including the rest of humanity come close to their own form of immortality - an elaborate process involving slowing and stopping the deterioration of specific cells. Nicholas wouldn't lie, it was clever.
But immortality? It was his gift.
Yes, Nicholas didn't plan to topple humanity in a night.
But he did believe in being flexible.
*****
Killing was the last thing Nicholas wanted to do.
It started with the first scientist. A Dr. Roberto Musk, son of the leading space scientist. Nicholas held the mystical tome in one hand, and a ball of fire in the other.
Nicholas was kind enough. He made sure the death was quick.
Then the second scientist. Frozen to death in a flash freeze.
Third; forced heart attack.
Over and over, until the top minds working on it were dead.
Killing was the last thing Nicholas wanted to.
But what else could he have done?
*****
Nicholas hated treason. Completely.
And yet, here he was, sabotaging efforts of the French government from catching on to his eternal life.
It was more than evading, it was more.
Then, once France was lost, Nicholas took on other countries in Europe. Then Africa, Asia, the Americas.
Nicholas had to be admit one thing about treason - it was exhilarating to not be caught.
*****
Nicholas was surrounded by silence.
Dead silence.
No one left.
After the murder of the top minds, the fall of the governments, the world fell into chaos. It had been two hundreds years before an otherwise stable species collapsed.
Nicholas was all that remained.
He pondered - what if he had done things different?
But that was the past.
Nicholas was surrounded by silence.
He welcomed it with open arms.
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[WP] Your child's claim to have an imaginary friend goes from cute to frightening when you begin to see an unfamiliar person in all of your family photos.
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I thought Claire was going insane. It's cute when your three year old daughter has an imaginary friend but Claire is twenty-three. Twenty-three year olds do not have imaginary friends.
Claire's been at med school and I haven't seen her for months. I was excited to see my baby girl again when she come home late March. Over dinner, Claire mentioned that she made a new friend named Ellie. She would go on and on about their adventures and what a great time she's having. Everything was fine, until later that evening. I came into the living room to see Claire sitting by herself flipping through our family photo book. I sat down and asked if she misses the summers we spent in Thailand. Claire, with a puzzled look, asked me why I was sitting on Ellie. I didn't understand. There was no one in the room. She asked me to get up then apologized to the empty space next to her. Either I was going mad or she was. Claire placed the photo book down and said she was going to get ready for bed to rest up for her big day planned with Ellie tomorrow. She walked upstairs and asked Ellie to follow her. She tells Ellie that the guest room is right next to her bedroom and to let her know if she needs anything.
I don't know what to say. Is my daughter on drugs? Has she gone mad? Am I on drugs? I don't know anymore. Concerned, I was going to discuss what just happened with my wife, until something caught my eye. I picked up the photo album that Claire was looking at and there she was. Standing in front of a temple in Thailand was me, my wife, Claire and fourth person I do not recognize. She was standing right next to my daughter and I have no recollection of who she is. I must be going insane.
The next morning, Claire was already in the kitchen when I walked in. She was sitting there with two bowls of cereal. I asked her if she made me breakfast for me and she said she didn't know what I wanted. Now it makes sense. That second bowl wasn't for me. It was Ellie's. To avoid the awkwardness, I walked over to the calendar hanging on the wall and flipped it over. Trying to make small talk with Claire, I say to her, "Three months down, nine to go." Claire smiles at me briefly and continues to finish her cereal. Claire tells me she's going to swing by the hospital to pick up something and asked if I need a ride anywhere. Since I'm definitely going insane, I decided that it would be smart to go along with her and maybe talk to a doctor about my memory and vision issues. I grab my jacket and we head out the door.
At the hospital, Claire introduced me to her friend Tom. Tom, is a third year med student who specializes in mental illnesses. As if the stars are all aligned, this is the perfect opportunity for me to ask a few questions to see if I'm going insane. Claire excused herself to use the restroom and took advantage to tell Tom the events that has transpired in the past 24 hours. With a worried look on his face, he proceeds to grab a pen and pad and scribbles something down. He folds it in half and tells it's a prescription that will help me with my problems. As Claire returns, Tom quickly shoves the prescription in my pocket and tells me not to say anything to Claire.
As we leave the hospital and go to the car, I asked Claire to drop me off at the drug store down the street. I wanted to pick up a few supplies for the house. Claire tells me that she knows. Confused, I asked her what she means. She tells me that she knows I'm seeing things in pictures and that I am having memory loss issues. She also tells me that she knows Tom wrote me a prescription. She must've saw Tom shove the prescription into my pocket when she re-joined us. She tells me that Tom has a tendency to think that drugs are the answer to everything and asks me to take a look to see what he prescribed. Claire can't seem to control her excitement as I take the folded prescription out of my pocket. I unfolded the sheet of paper to see what Tom prescribed.
"April Fools"
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Is it time to get my eyes checked again? Am I going senile already? I don't remember Ben having any friends over for my anniversary party.
"Benjamin. Who is this? Her. Right there beside you."
"I already told you mom. Her name is Jacqueline and she really liked your dress that day, but thought it was too loose around your neck"
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[WP] Psychics are rounded up and forced to compete in gladatorial-esque combat to the death. Each psychic is assigned a threat level between 1(the lowest) and 10(the highest). Your psychic threat level is 1, yet you have reigned as supreme champion for the last 2 years.
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"*Him?* Are you crazy?!"
"What? He wins all the time!"
"Come on! He's just lucky as shit, there's no way he's gonna win this time- did you fucking bet *all of it?!*"
I gave Josh my best blank look. Explaining that I didn't want this money anyway would likely be too taxing on both our minds. Statistically speaking, I wasn't about to turn my life around for the better after winning this lottery. Might as well get rid of the easy cash in an easy way.
"... did you at least keep some pocket change?"
I nodded.
"Whew."
Some time later, we were in our seats above the arena, each holding the most ostentatious drink a few thousands could buy us. I sipped on mine once and winced. Is that what expensive booze is supposed to taste like?
Josh took a hearty chug of his own, no doubt attempting to drink away the imminent pain of seeing my money burn. "Here they come," he pointed out.
Eversight was a six. Sensed the opponents' minds at a distance, and could attack them with what he called "brain rips". I wasn't sure how literal it was, but it did kill the ones without any shields quite dead. As he stepped inside the arena - a maze of obstacles, crates and catwalks - his head immediately turned towards the randomized entrance where his opponent was. With a grin on his face, he raised his hand in his iconic gesture.
It could be over in the very first second. Even if Underdog had any psychic defenses - and he never demonstrated any - a singler's shields could not be strong enough. Defense was always weaker than attack, even in a matchup of two tens.
I sipped on my drink. Josh leaned forward.
Eversight didn't attack. He kept his arm extended towards the enemy's location, while Underdog climbed clumsily to the upper level.
Useless. High ground could give him a chance against someone else, but not a psychic who could anticipate any ambush. ("It'ss over, Anakin!" Josh called out, with a slight slur.) Eversight was going to execute him at the last moment, for maximum dramatic effect. Crowd loves those.
"Looking for me?" the six shouted, with a mocking tone. "Don't worry, I'm giving you a little hint here."
Underdog perked up at hearing that and strode towards the sound with an idiot's confidence.
"Come o-on, I'm right behi-ind it," Eversight sing-sang, when the only thing breaking the line of sight between him and the singler was a rather large, tall crate on the upper level. Underdog was leaning against it casually, as if he was taking a smoke break at work and not about to have his grey matter mutilated. "Come out so you can watch me destroy you-u..."
The singler shrugged, and gave the crate a push.
|
You sit in the room, reading the profiles of all the other contestants, not that your really interested. It would be the same as every other battle in the last two years. You would win.
They had a training rink available, and evaluation rooms available if you thought your power had increased and you wanted your threat leave reassigned. But you were not interested. You knew the extent of your powers and had no need to train. You are evaluated at a one. Lowest score possible and still have powers. No one had thought you a threat the first time, and the battles were over within seconds. Not long enough for people to understand what you had done.
The second year was a bit different, but the other competitors were sure it had been a fluke, that maybe the rating system had been messed up the year before. But no, you ranked a one again. And again you won. Every single battle.
Had you been on the street no one would have given you a second thought, tiny, only 4 foot 11 inches. Pale, and young looking, your face having retained that young roundedness. But you wore tall heels, and bright clothing. You wanted to be noticed, you wanted to be respected. That's why you had volunteered to fight in the first place. Why after receiving your rating you still choose to compete. These were life and death battles after all! Champions got a cut of all bets taken, which you had found out the first year, was no inconsiderable amount.
You could have stopped, being a two time champion was unheard of, but it wasn't good enough for you. For you had learned something from that first battle. You liked when they died.
The buzzer rang from a far off paging system, and a voice announced that you were up next. You tossed the latest file on the table and headed out to the arena. They had a table of weapons for you to choose from, so you grabbed a small dagger and walked out into the waiting crowd.
Cheers and screams nearly deafened you, but you were interested in nothing other that the figure across the way. A tall, pallid man was standing there. You were quite sure that he was already trying to kill you, but lucky that was one of the two skills you had. You simply were impervious to others psychic abilities. It wasn't an active skill, so if hadn't registered on the assessment test. You walk over to him, not even bothering to remember his name, as he was about to die.
You reach him, and he looks at you angrily. But he looked you in the eyes. And that was key to your other tiny ability. Looking someone in the eyes made them want to do anything, absolutely anything you wanted them to do. And you wanted this man to die. You hold out the dagger, and without saying anything he takes it, and plunges it into his neck. You turn and walk out the way you had come in. One down and 154 to go.
|
|
[WP] Psychics are rounded up and forced to compete in gladatorial-esque combat to the death. Each psychic is assigned a threat level between 1(the lowest) and 10(the highest). Your psychic threat level is 1, yet you have reigned as supreme champion for the last 2 years.
|
"That's not fair! Has your mother taught you to not hit below the-augh!"
I kicked him in the genitals again.
"There was never a rule against kicking someone in the balls."
Using psychokinesis, he levitated a chunk of rock and attempted to blindside me with it. Fortunately, I sidestepped just in time and it hit him square in the face, crushing him against the wall of the stadium and staining it with a deep shade of crimson.
The fucker had it coming. He stepped on my new shoes after all.
|
You sit in the room, reading the profiles of all the other contestants, not that your really interested. It would be the same as every other battle in the last two years. You would win.
They had a training rink available, and evaluation rooms available if you thought your power had increased and you wanted your threat leave reassigned. But you were not interested. You knew the extent of your powers and had no need to train. You are evaluated at a one. Lowest score possible and still have powers. No one had thought you a threat the first time, and the battles were over within seconds. Not long enough for people to understand what you had done.
The second year was a bit different, but the other competitors were sure it had been a fluke, that maybe the rating system had been messed up the year before. But no, you ranked a one again. And again you won. Every single battle.
Had you been on the street no one would have given you a second thought, tiny, only 4 foot 11 inches. Pale, and young looking, your face having retained that young roundedness. But you wore tall heels, and bright clothing. You wanted to be noticed, you wanted to be respected. That's why you had volunteered to fight in the first place. Why after receiving your rating you still choose to compete. These were life and death battles after all! Champions got a cut of all bets taken, which you had found out the first year, was no inconsiderable amount.
You could have stopped, being a two time champion was unheard of, but it wasn't good enough for you. For you had learned something from that first battle. You liked when they died.
The buzzer rang from a far off paging system, and a voice announced that you were up next. You tossed the latest file on the table and headed out to the arena. They had a table of weapons for you to choose from, so you grabbed a small dagger and walked out into the waiting crowd.
Cheers and screams nearly deafened you, but you were interested in nothing other that the figure across the way. A tall, pallid man was standing there. You were quite sure that he was already trying to kill you, but lucky that was one of the two skills you had. You simply were impervious to others psychic abilities. It wasn't an active skill, so if hadn't registered on the assessment test. You walk over to him, not even bothering to remember his name, as he was about to die.
You reach him, and he looks at you angrily. But he looked you in the eyes. And that was key to your other tiny ability. Looking someone in the eyes made them want to do anything, absolutely anything you wanted them to do. And you wanted this man to die. You hold out the dagger, and without saying anything he takes it, and plunges it into his neck. You turn and walk out the way you had come in. One down and 154 to go.
|
|
[WP] Sick of being lied to you beg the Gods for change and one takes pity on you. Now when people lie to you a little text box appears next to them that only you can see, with the lie, the truth, and their motive for lying.
|
I had an idea.
I turned on the TV. Switched to CSPAN.
There was Trump giving a speech.
As he spoke, the little text box to the right of his big orange head was filling with words. I had my note pad out, ready to write down the juiciest bits.
But the words filled the box too quickly, then at an almost incalculable rate. They became an incoherent jumble of text. They became computer code whizzing by.
Then the little box went blank and a message showed.
'Error'
"It's tremendous," said Trump. "Tremendous people, tremendous spirit, if you want to know the truth..."
So much for that idea.
|
I’m not sure which god or gods did it, and they didn’t seem overly concerned with taking credit. My prayer to be able to sort fact from fiction was answered, though not how I expected. The first time what I began to call the “Liar’s Box” appeared, I screamed. I had asked my co-worker what he was doing this weekend.
“Going to get a head-start on filing my taxes while the wife visits her mom,” he had said. A semi-translucent, two-dimensional blue rectangle had appeared next to his head and displayed clear white letters.
<LIE. HE IS HAVING HIS NEIGHBOR OVER TO CONTINUE THEIR AFFAIR. HE DOES NOT TRUST ANYBODY WITH THIS INFORMATION.>
I had yelped and fallen back against the wall. My co-worker had jumped back at my exclamation and looked around, trying to find whatever my eyes had locked on to. When it was clear he couldn’t see the box, I had excused myself and gone to the bathroom. I’d asked him how his neighbor was later, and if his wife knew about her. He’d become very angry with me very fast and ignored me the rest of the week.
The boxes kept popping up any time somebody told me a lie. Lies of omission or technically accurate but misleading statements did not show up, to my chagrin. But still, the Liar Boxes were a literal godsend. They had a standard format too: confirmation of the lie, followed by the actual truth, and then a reason why the person had lied. Handy. Most of the lies I was told were petty, unimportant fibs. I’d ask somebody to hang out and they’d decline and say they were busy. In truth they were just tired, or didn’t feel like socializing, that sort of thing. No big deal.
Occasionally I’d get kind of a big one, like with my co-worker. I found out the guy who ran the convenience store me ran an illegal gambling ring out of the back room, and that my apartment owner was skimming money off the the rent money he collected each month. I’m not so noble that I’ll deny twisting these sorts of situations to my benefit. I now live rent free and get a steep discount at the store, plus a percentage of whatever the gamblers lose. Petty crimes like that, I don’t mind taking advantage of.
Once I asked a guy on the subway if he was okay. He was sweating like he’d just ran a six-minute mile and flushed so red I thought he might be about to have a heart attack. He looked the age for it too: mid-50s at the youngest. He said he was fine and gave me a weak smile. A Liar Box immediately appeared over his shoulder.
<LIE. HE IS VERY NERVOUS AND AFRAID. HE HAS A THUMB DRIVE IN HIS POCKET FULL OF CHILD PORNOGRAPHY AND DOES NOT WANT TO LOSE IT AND RISK DISCOVERY.>
That guy I had followed at a distance until we’d gotten near some subway security. I flagged them own and pointed the guy out. He’d been searched and actually did have a heart attack when one of the security guards removed a tiny USB drive from his pocket.
That had been the worst. Damn near all the stuff that appeared in the Liar Boxes wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes it hurt though. Like when I asked the pretty gal who lived a few stories below me out for drinks.
“Sorry, I’ve got a boyfriend,” she had said.
<LIE. SHE IS SINGLE AND ACTIVELY LOOKING FOR A BOYFRIEND. SHE THINKS YOU LOOK LIKE AN UGLIER VERSION OF ADRIAN BRODY.>
C’mon, Liar Box. Was that necessary? Damn.
So yeah, aside from some casual insults and the one incident on the subway with the pervert, the Liar Boxes had been mostly all good news, or at least unimportant.
Until yesterday.
I went to a bar near my building. It was Friday but I didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment. It was always just crowded enough to have a good atmosphere without feeling packed. That night was no different: a little more than half the seats were filled with people sliding into their weekend with a few beers or shots of whiskey.
I took a stool at the bar and ordered a beer and let myself zone out as I watched the television hanging behind the bar. I didn’t glance up until halfway through my second beer when a woman in long skirt and crisp white blouse sat next to me. She had thin, circular glasses and sable hair pulled into a ponytail. She was cute. Real cute.
“Evening,” she said to me as she caught my eye. I raised my glass to her and smiled. She ordered a martini and raised it to me in a return salute.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before,” I said. This was a small lie on my part. I knew I’d never seen her in here before. I definitely would’ve remembered. She had bright green eyes and the heels she was wearing did fantastic things for her stocking-clad legs.
“I’m not usually in this part of town,” she replied. “But I had to meet somebody nearby today, figured I’d have a drink before I braved the subway home.”
No lies so far. We chit-chatted a bit more. Her name was Kaya. Pretty name. She let me order us both another round and we moved to one of the smaller booths near the back of the bar, where the sounds of the TVs and clinking glasses were more muffled. It was cozy, almost romantic, with a little candle and a flickering orange flame to give the corner booth a bit of ambiance. We got to talking about work, and what brought her to this side of town.
“That person I had to meet was my boss’s boss,” Kaya replied. “He wanted updates on a project we’ve been working on, that I’ve been in charge of. It hasn’t been going well. It’s my first time as project manager and I’ve kinda screwed up a lot, to be honest.” She sighed as she tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.
“It happens. Only human, right?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said and laughed.
<LIE. IT IS NOT HUMAN. IT CONCEALS THIS TO BE A BETTER PREDATOR.>
I paused with my beer glass halfway to my mouth.
I set it down and swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry despite the three beers I had finished.
I stared over Kaya’s left shoulder at the hovering box.
Lie.
It is not human.
It.
Predator.
\[1/2\]
|
|
[WP] Sick of being lied to you beg the Gods for change and one takes pity on you. Now when people lie to you a little text box appears next to them that only you can see, with the lie, the truth, and their motive for lying.
|
Alyssa's head was in her hands. She knew she had to make a decision; she couldn't keep Her waiting any longer.
"Yes," she said without much confidence. "I'm sure."
There wasn't a flash of light, no thunderous boom from a cannon or novelty explosion of confetti. Alyssa just felt warm for a few moments, and then everything was normal again. She'd thought being granted a gift from the Gods would be more dramatic.
The elementary school teacher had spent her entire life being taken advantage of. Alyssa was smart but too trusting -- her mother often called a puppy. A smiling bundle of joy that always gave people the benefit of the doubt, despite what experience had taught her. It had caused her too much heartache and pain.
And this morning was set up to be the worst of them all.
The deity appeared as she sat on the toilet weeping. Her pajamas were all the way up -- she wasn't using the bathroom, she was just unable to control her crying and didn't yet have the courage to walk back to her bedroom and ask what needed to be asked.
"This power can be a curse," explained the God softly. "Yes, you will always know. But knowledge is a burden. A life of total transparency and absolute truth is rife with pain."
Alyssa understood the explanation. But given the situation... yes, yes, she wanted the power. A life of painful truth would be better than the life she might accept this morning based on a lie.
There was nothing left for it. It'd be easier to hide in the bathroom forever, but better to rip the band-aid off. Alyssa opened the door and walked to her bedroom.
She looked down on her girlfriend's still-sleeping face. The comforter was half off, revealing that one breast had fallen out of her tank top in the night. There was that little mole Alyssa loved so much, just under her nipple, because she was the only one who knew about it. Or so she had thought.
Alyssa touched her on the neck. Her girlfriend had been a light sleeper ever since they met two years ago, just after she'd broken up with Jeff. *For good this time*, she'd claimed.
She woke up groggily. "Hey sweetie."
But Alyssa had no patience for pleasantries. Her hand shook as she held up the positive pregnancy test she'd found in the trash and asked, "Is this yours?"
\--------------------
13/365
one story per day for a year. read them all at [r/babyshoesalesman](https://www.reddit.com/r/babyshoesalesman)
\--------------------
edit: some style and small phrasing changes, nothing major
|
After my deal with the devil or maybe it was an asshole god trying to play a trick on me. Possibly Loki, I don’t know. I just remember being drunk and agreeing to something stupid.
I went to visit my mom. She always cheered me up. She opened the door and said she was so happy to see me, and she loved me. There was now two text boxes that appeared. Both were lies. I was adopted appeared in one because she couldn’t have kids and was lonely at that time, and her boyfriends were hiding in the closet of her room and all she wanted to do was get back to them.
But she gave me a hug, squeezed me hard and said that I was her world. When she smiled the check boxes went away and I left smiling. Maybe this gift wasn’t so bad. But wait, I was adopted?
|
|
[WP] Sick of being lied to you beg the Gods for change and one takes pity on you. Now when people lie to you a little text box appears next to them that only you can see, with the lie, the truth, and their motive for lying.
|
"Have you done it yet?"
The being, a god, apparently, smiles.
"Yep," it says, "all done."
"Huh," I say, "I didn't feel a thing."
"Told you I'd be gentle," it replies, beaming wider. "Now, remember, no backsies."
"Oh, no," I shake my head, "definitely not. I'm sick of being lied to. I think you've really helped me out here. Thank you, strange being with your supernatural powers and probably only good intentions."
The being suppresses a giggle.
"Think nothing of it. It was my pleasure Welcome to your new, better life!"
A small box appears next to the being that I am just able to read before it and the being both vanish in a flash of light.
*Lie: your life will be better.*
*Truth: your life is about to become far, far worse.*
*Motivation: bored and evil.*
Dang it.
|
After my deal with the devil or maybe it was an asshole god trying to play a trick on me. Possibly Loki, I don’t know. I just remember being drunk and agreeing to something stupid.
I went to visit my mom. She always cheered me up. She opened the door and said she was so happy to see me, and she loved me. There was now two text boxes that appeared. Both were lies. I was adopted appeared in one because she couldn’t have kids and was lonely at that time, and her boyfriends were hiding in the closet of her room and all she wanted to do was get back to them.
But she gave me a hug, squeezed me hard and said that I was her world. When she smiled the check boxes went away and I left smiling. Maybe this gift wasn’t so bad. But wait, I was adopted?
|
|
[WP] Sick of being lied to you beg the Gods for change and one takes pity on you. Now when people lie to you a little text box appears next to them that only you can see, with the lie, the truth, and their motive for lying.
|
"Are you certain?" Aletheia asked. If she was disappointed, she didn't show it.
I hesitated before I replied. Not because I was uncertain, but because I didn't want to cause offence.
"Yes, Great Aletheia. I would like to return the Gift."
She rose from her seat, her white robes gliding gracefully over the marble. "Knowledge is a great burden, and Truth, a greater burden still. To know this is mundane. To understand this is wisdom."
She placed a hand on my shoulder before continuing. "I will take the Gift, but not that which you have reaped from it so far. You are to keep the truths you have learned with the Gift. They are the price you must pay for having received it."
Before I could object, she raised my face to meet her gaze. Her eyes staring into my soul, she reached in and took the Gift that I had once begged for. The Curse.
And just like that, it was all over. I no longer had the Gift.
\--------------
On my way home, my mind wondered to the events that led to me praying for the Gift.
The countless times I had been taken advantage of through my own naivety. The job offers and promotions that never came, the money I lent that was never repaid.
At first, the Gift had given me an edge. I was able to use it to my advantage all the time. But then I started to learn things I wished I didn't know.
But of all the lies I had been told, it was my wife's lie that made me wish I had never received the Gift to begin with.
\-------------
We had sat down for dinner, as usual. Smiling, I asked for the bowl of potatoe salad.
The loud crash of the bowl against the ceramic floor caught me by surprise.
"Are you ok, honey?" I asked, rushing over to aid her. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, babe" came the response.
A lie.
The Gift told me as much.
The Lie was that she was fine.
The Truth, that she had been to see the doctor earlier that day. Stage four cancer.
The Motive, she didn't think she could confide in me. Not because she didn't want to hurt me, but because I had seemed more distant recently, more preoccupied with work and other things. Ever since receiving the Gift, I had been neglecting her more and more. She felt alone, in her own home, in her hour of need.
She didn't know why I was holding her so tightly, or why I was crying, but she welcomed it and reciprocated.
I knew what I had to do. I had to see Aletheia again.
\--------------
If you enjoyed this story and would like to see more from me, please consider subscribing to my subreddit [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/phreaklikeme/)!
|
After my deal with the devil or maybe it was an asshole god trying to play a trick on me. Possibly Loki, I don’t know. I just remember being drunk and agreeing to something stupid.
I went to visit my mom. She always cheered me up. She opened the door and said she was so happy to see me, and she loved me. There was now two text boxes that appeared. Both were lies. I was adopted appeared in one because she couldn’t have kids and was lonely at that time, and her boyfriends were hiding in the closet of her room and all she wanted to do was get back to them.
But she gave me a hug, squeezed me hard and said that I was her world. When she smiled the check boxes went away and I left smiling. Maybe this gift wasn’t so bad. But wait, I was adopted?
|
|
[WP] Sick of being lied to you beg the Gods for change and one takes pity on you. Now when people lie to you a little text box appears next to them that only you can see, with the lie, the truth, and their motive for lying.
|
"Have you done it yet?"
The being, a god, apparently, smiles.
"Yep," it says, "all done."
"Huh," I say, "I didn't feel a thing."
"Told you I'd be gentle," it replies, beaming wider. "Now, remember, no backsies."
"Oh, no," I shake my head, "definitely not. I'm sick of being lied to. I think you've really helped me out here. Thank you, strange being with your supernatural powers and probably only good intentions."
The being suppresses a giggle.
"Think nothing of it. It was my pleasure Welcome to your new, better life!"
A small box appears next to the being that I am just able to read before it and the being both vanish in a flash of light.
*Lie: your life will be better.*
*Truth: your life is about to become far, far worse.*
*Motivation: bored and evil.*
Dang it.
|
Alyssa's head was in her hands. She knew she had to make a decision; she couldn't keep Her waiting any longer.
"Yes," she said without much confidence. "I'm sure."
There wasn't a flash of light, no thunderous boom from a cannon or novelty explosion of confetti. Alyssa just felt warm for a few moments, and then everything was normal again. She'd thought being granted a gift from the Gods would be more dramatic.
The elementary school teacher had spent her entire life being taken advantage of. Alyssa was smart but too trusting -- her mother often called a puppy. A smiling bundle of joy that always gave people the benefit of the doubt, despite what experience had taught her. It had caused her too much heartache and pain.
And this morning was set up to be the worst of them all.
The deity appeared as she sat on the toilet weeping. Her pajamas were all the way up -- she wasn't using the bathroom, she was just unable to control her crying and didn't yet have the courage to walk back to her bedroom and ask what needed to be asked.
"This power can be a curse," explained the God softly. "Yes, you will always know. But knowledge is a burden. A life of total transparency and absolute truth is rife with pain."
Alyssa understood the explanation. But given the situation... yes, yes, she wanted the power. A life of painful truth would be better than the life she might accept this morning based on a lie.
There was nothing left for it. It'd be easier to hide in the bathroom forever, but better to rip the band-aid off. Alyssa opened the door and walked to her bedroom.
She looked down on her girlfriend's still-sleeping face. The comforter was half off, revealing that one breast had fallen out of her tank top in the night. There was that little mole Alyssa loved so much, just under her nipple, because she was the only one who knew about it. Or so she had thought.
Alyssa touched her on the neck. Her girlfriend had been a light sleeper ever since they met two years ago, just after she'd broken up with Jeff. *For good this time*, she'd claimed.
She woke up groggily. "Hey sweetie."
But Alyssa had no patience for pleasantries. Her hand shook as she held up the positive pregnancy test she'd found in the trash and asked, "Is this yours?"
\--------------------
13/365
one story per day for a year. read them all at [r/babyshoesalesman](https://www.reddit.com/r/babyshoesalesman)
\--------------------
edit: some style and small phrasing changes, nothing major
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|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
In 1977 a couple of guys from my church in Texas were driving to Missouri to do some construction work on a religious retreat center. I begged them to let me come along and they didn't want to but I think our pastor or their wives convinced them because they gave in. While I was there a young woman came to visit from Minnesota. She'd known one of the couples who were at the center when she was in Japan. The whole week I was building and she was helping out at the home of this couple. But on the second to last day the couple she was staying with hosted a dinner for the 5 of us who came to do construction work. Afterwards she and I did the dishes and in those 2 hours we fell in love. I married her about 1 year later and we enjoyed 29 years of joy till I lost her to breast cancer. She was the love of my life, the apple of my eye. But when I contemplate all the elements of pure chance that went into that meeting it boggles my mind. What if those couples had stuck with no? What if she'd visited the week before or after? What if the couple hadn't hosted that dinner? What if she or I hadn't decided to help with the dishes? It completely blows my mind.
|
First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
This would be like a TV game show where after you accept the shitty payout (and defeat), they show you that if you trusted your gut and didn’t choke, you’d have left with at least 3 xs what you’re pessimist ass is now going home with.
|
First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"What's this?" I asked as the giant man angel handed me a book.
"This is your life, as well as all the options you never took. We like to hand these out to the new people so they can see what would have come if they had made other choices in their life."
"Huh, so kind of like that movie, 'It's a wonderful life'. Well, no thanks" I said as I handed the book back to the man angel.
"What do you mean?"
"Look, there are choices I made and didn't make. Some led to regrets and others not. My life choices were not about making the right ones, but being okay with the choices I made and being grateful for making my life the best I could in spite of my choices."
"Are you not curious?"
"Hell no. Why would I want to see that if I had only asked out Barb in twelfth grade, my life would have bee so much better? Sounds like misery to me."
"Yes but what of that outcome would have shown you how much worse your life would have been, and instead validates your choice to not ask her out?"
"Who cares? I know what I did and did not do and am happy with it. Are you gonna open these gates for me or do I have to climb over them?"
The giant man angel smiled, turned to the side and the gates opened.
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"Die."
That is what was written on the cover of my book.
"Die."
No, I tell a lie.
I wasn't holding a book in my hands, but a simple cardboard sheet that bore only that simple word.
"Die."
I remember that much, though I didn't know the word at the time.
I felt my body torn apart.
I felt pain.
I screamed howls that no-one ever heard.
All around me, everyone else, it seemed, had books of adventure. Mystery, options.
I ... I had a mother who did not want me.
I had no choices in my life.
No pages.
A life of no memories.
"Die."
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I held the book,
Felt its weight.
Hefted it,
Like a lodestone on my future.
I looked near the beginning,
Where the jumps were large,
The changes so drastic,
The choices heavy.
I turned to the back,
It read like a novel,
Each decision short,
Small,
Meaningless.
Ah, the old maxim was true,
With age all choices grow small,
And a man can choose,
Only what he must.
I closed the book.
It was taken from me,
Freed from the questions,
Uncaring of the answers,
I continued to walk.
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You open to a random page, read the words "you are now a handsome billionaire, loved by all, especially your harem of gorgeous women." and frantically try to reverse engineer what series of events got you to this outcome. You realize you deviated from the path due to a seemingly inconsequential choice you made because it was funny, and are now miserable for eternity.
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I closed the book. “What is this?” I asked.
“I thought it pretty self explanatory. Its a book about the decisions you made and what the outcomes could’ve been” said the angel.
“Well yes, but why? Why would I want to read about the possible outcomes now that I am deceased?”
The angle sighed, as if they were annoyed by my inquiry. “Some people like to see where they could have been and if a different decision was made, how their life could have been.”
I paused for a moment, still holding the book in my hand. The leather quality was nice. I quickly paged through it, noting that varying in age of the ink as someone had written each section after each possible decision. The ink in the back pages still seemingly fresh and not aged. If the angels were writing these by hand, I felt bad for those that had to write this stuff out for people with severe ADD.
My questions continued. “But why? The decisions I made through my life were not ones I can or could change. Why would I want to see what I *could* have done when I am here now. Isn’t that what matters?”
The angel changed from annoyed to curious. “Are you saying you wouldn’t change any of the decisions you made? Aren’t you curious about that the one girl you never asked out, or the day you took that phone call?”
Of course I was always curious. Those simply decisions would crop up in dreams or when I saw someone more successful than I. The decisions I made and how maybe I could have done better.
“Well, sure. But the outcome could only be relief if I had done worse or heartache if I could had done better. Certainly I had regrets about things I didn’t get to do or opportunities I missed out on but they are only mild regrets. The things I did do gave me meaning and fulfillment in their own way.”
The angels curiosity continued. “You say had… meaning you don’t have them anymore?”
“Why would I have them now? If I am deceased, there is nothing from my living life that came with me other than my memories so why would that matter here? I tried to live a positive life and do the right things when possible. Why would I worry about that life now?”
The look on the angles face shifted to a mild sense of superiority. “What if I told you it *did* matter?”
“Well then we are back to my original point: the decisions have been made and I can’t go back to change them. If I am going to be punished for any one of the decisions, why would I want to dwell on them? If I were to be rewarded, then so be it.”
The angel was quiet for some time as if they were conferring with someone telepathically or simply being decisive about lunch, it was unclear.
I pressed on. “So if I am choosing not to read this, what’s next?”
The angel disregarded my question. “What if I told you this is your only chance to read this? You will never get a chance to learn this information again.”
I chuckled in anxious amusement. “Why are *you* so adamant that I read it? Is there something you aren’t telling me about why I should?”
“None. My purpose is provide you with the book. Just like your mortal life, the decision is your own. I will say however that your decision not read it follows quite clearly with your choices for meaning rather than self indulgence.”
I paused at the angels words. Was this a compliment or an insult? I handed the book back to them.
The angel nodded and took the book from my hands. They continued. “Even those that find that kind of wisdom later in life still tend to want to read it. Usually out of indulgence. The wisest however recognize that reading the decisions themselves are more knowledge despite the fact there is nothing that can be done.”
The angel gently held the book up towards me as one last gesture of opportunity. I smiled and pushed their hand away. “It sounds like I still have quite a bit to learn then.”
“Very well” said the angel. “I must ask though, aren’t you curious about the decision that ultimately led you here?”
I let out a huge laugh as if someone had told funniest joke in the world. “Nope. I knew that decision would come back to get me one day.”
The angle smirked, trying to contain their own sense of laughter. “Very well. Follow me.”
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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The tome lay heavy in my hand. Immaculate penmanship neatly filled every page even as the number of pages stretched and warped to fit perhaps an infinite number within the leather-clad bindings.
Death, for who else could it have been, stood silently within the hooded robe concealing his face.
"This," I started to say, wanting to make sure I understood what I had been given. "This contains the stories of all the possible decisions I could have made, all my choices and their consequences... from birth all the way to my inevitable deaths?"
"YES."
I stared at the book. My whole life, no, all my possible lives. Every selfless and selfish decision, all the heroic and villanous moments, with the opposite paths laid out to show what could have been.
What never had been.
I closed the book, feeling an anger rising from within. "Take it."
"WHAT?"
"Take it," I said again, holding the book out to his skeletal fingers. "Burn it."
Empty sockets stared at me as the tome, page still open to perfect parchment, was lifted from my hands. Death paused then asked, "WHY?"
I glared back at the skull. "I lived my life. I made my choices. Good and bad, they were mine. The consequences were mine and I'll own those forever. Being brave enough to believe in the fantasy of love and then working hard to make it a reality? Mine. Choosing to be a father to a child who's sad fate seemed already written and holding her close as she died? Mine. Dealing with betrayals and pain? Mine. Moments of weakness, cowardice, and of laziness? Mine. What may have been is meaningless."
With a growl I pointed at the book. "That isn't real. That isn't true. My choices made me who I am. All the way to when you fished me out of the wreckage my body had become. There's no point in either wallowing in over how much better things could have been, or letting myself swell with pride over how things could have been worse. What was, was. And I am who I am. So burn that, throw it away. I don't want it."
With a loud snap, Death closed the book. As I watched, it burst into flames and quickly became ash flowing away in the ethereal wind.
I felt a tension in my soul ease and I asked, "Now what?"
Behind the dark figure a light had begun to shine. "NOW YOU ARE READY FOR WHAT COMES NEXT."
He moved aside. And I walked forward.
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I was smiling as I read the first hundred pages or so.
Those were the early days of my life. When I was still young and was playing terrible make believe games with my brothers and sisters. The multitude of choices here never amounted to anything significant.
*Decided to agree with sisters; Page 539*
*Decided to agree with brothers; Page 540*
No real differences that amounted to anything bigger.
That was fine. I was actually sort of relieved at that, relieved to know that those choices could never really affect what happened later on.
"You're stalling," He said. The tone wasn't accusatory nor was it complacent. It just sort of was. Pissed me off a bit actually.
"Yeah, I am," I scoffed turning to him. "These were the better days. Can't I enjoy them?"
"You can't leave unless the book is done. Those are the rules," He answered. Again, you couldn't get anything out of his voice. It just sort of was.
"Is there a problem if I don't go?"
"No. The schedule can be changed."
"Than let me read at my own pace, okay?" I called as I turned to the book again. "'Sides, I'm not going to read all of it."
I wasn't lying. One of my many faults. I wasn't going to waste my time reading every single one of the outcomes that could have occurred if I had chosen a different path. Just the cliff-notes of 'em.
I turned back to the index to look up what I believed was the big turning point of my life. When I was finally able to see that the cogs weren't alright.
*The fight at the bar; Page 12,443*
I threw the pages until I found what I was looking for. I was actually surprised when I saw that there weren't many choices for this point in my life.
*Through a knock-out punch; Page 12,511*
*Through a punch; Page 12,444*
Both scenarios had me fighting which was odd. I thought that maybe there would have been a choice that didn't have me fighting. Guess that wasn't in my path.
I turned to the end of the fight, knowing that if this wasn't origin point of what I become, than the end of the fight would have been.
Lo' and Behold I was right.
*Go back to drinking; Page 12,677*
*Scare his mates; Page 12,788*
*Glass his mates; Page 12,877*
*Finish the fight; Page 12, 554*
That was it. The point where my life started. I flipped forward a bunch of pages to see what my choice where at another point. I actually laughed out loud when I saw that there were only three options.
*Join; Page 23,111*
*Ignore; Page 23,311*
*Rat them out; Page 24,555*
"Zeus be damned, I was set up from the start," I said as I continued to read down the path I had taken.
*Burn the church; Page 25,666*
*Burn the Government Building; Page 25,776*
*Execute the Bishop; Page 25,987*
*Let the crowds handle him: Page 26,001*
*Throw the Molotov Cocktail; Page 27,244*
*Use the flamethrower; Page 27,300*
*Hang the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,101* *Behead the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,180* *Fire the first shot; Page 35,188* *Call in for a Volley Fire; Page 35,201* *Blow up the Parliament Building; Page 36,333* *Storm the Parliament Building; Page 36, 389*
I continued to read down the path I had chosen, only occasionally glancing at the other possible outcomes of the action I could've taken. My smile never faded as I continued to read down the list of the methods of torture, the people killed, the lives thrown into chaos, the bodies that drowned in the wake of the choices I made.
When I was satisfied with what I read, I loudly slammed the book. Just I was began to reach into my pocket, he called over, " Ready to go on?"
"Give me a sec," I said, as I pulled out my trusty friend. Without a second thought, I flick it up and let the flames lick at the edges of the book. It was only a couple more second before the book I was holding in my hands had caught fire and was burning with a strangely calming orange flame. After I felt satisfied with the results of my actions, I walked over the him, throwing the book over my shoulder.
"It will not be destroyed."
"Figured as much. The place seemed to Holy and shit," I answered with a smile. "So, did I get to pick the ride or it just an instantaneous thing. I always figure that singing 'Highway to Hell' while headin' to hell would always be funny as hell."
"You don't have any qualms about your actions?" The only time I could tell there was an emotion or a hint of something human.
"No. I was broken from the start. Besides, I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't chosen the revolution, I would have been a lot less justified in my doings. Maybe some good came out of my actions. Maybe some didn't. I don't really care. I know where I was headed the second, I start on my path. I just hope you guys do your worst."
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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First time, and typed on a phone in the middle of the night. Please be gentle...
The book, if you could call it a book, was handed to me with an air of indifference that I did not believe was befitting of my life. A cross between what I understood as a hard drive and a chose your owb adventure, all of the billions upon billions of versions of me were stored upon this one device.
I looked up. The thing that had handed me the device was gone. All that was left was the burning curiousity and the fright that I had wasted my life.
I skimmed through my life. Love, loss, success, failure. From my first kiss to the death of my father, every moment. I relived it all, just as realistic as if it was the present.
I stopped. I had lived my life. Time to see the path of an alternate me.
School gymnasium, 1998. Final year of school. I chose differently. No longer did I ask for Angela's number after the exam. Instead, I sat in anticipation, waiting to feel the difference of my life without her. Without my Angel.
Ready to see if I could bear my life without her. I waited, slumped, head down at my desk. My life, lost, in a moment. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see if I could live without her.
I hear feet approach my desk. Somewhere, outside the gymnasium, she would be saying her goodbyes. Where I was, those 20 years ago. My life had been short, but it had been worth it with her.
"Hi". I looked up. She had waited.
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I died alone. Missing my children and wife after the car crash 30 years ago. I had had a few drinks that night and though technically sober, I always felt like it was my fault or wondered what I could have done better.. In my grief, i left the home we built together and all friends we had made over the years would write and call occasionally, but would always want to start talking about how I had to buck up or move on.
I had tried to date, even had a few great dogs to keep me company over the years but it was never the same. I decided to get over my fears by helping others. I joined AA, I helped build parks and named the playgrounds after my children. I even named a bench for my wife and ate there every Sunday for nearly 30 years.
When I finally died and went to heaven, I was given a book. It was strange though. I got to read about the lives of all the decisions s that never happened because of that one day. I got to see pictures of my children going to prom. I got to see my wife get old. I couldn’t believe it but I was supposed to have twins! St Peter looked at me and asked me a single question. “Would you do things differently now that you know what you lost”? I heard later other people waited decades before answering, but I knew my answer immediately. “No. I have made mistakes, many of them in my lifetime. However, if this is heaven, my wife and kids are here and already know that I never stopped loving them and went on with my life helping others each day while thinking of them”.
St Peter smiled and said “welcome back to your family”.
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"I don't want it," I said, pushing the book away. Although standing in a white room, pain free and healthy, despite being 93, I knew what this book meant.
"We give you the option-"
"I understand," I responded crisply, "but angels don't understand some of the pains humans go through."
"Your abusive past-"
"Will remain that way," I tell him, looking down, "I can't relive it, and I can't see what would of happened had I not gone out that night. Or, had I ended it. If I told my parents no that one time. So no, I won't read it."
"Very well," he said, the book disappearing, "follow me please, God is waiting. He knew you were going to turn it down."
|
First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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Heaven's a great library, and everyone has a library card. Even those destined for hell have a library card.
I was alone, sat in a room with a large book. It's cover was dusty, as if waiting for me. I knew as soon as I opened it that time would stand still. God told me that. God told me everything that wasn't in this book. I could have been a painter, a truly great painter like Rembrandt. The book had all these illustrations I drew, every single one. From doodles on napkins to a mural I could have painted in a Roman cathedral. My real life, the one that ended much sooner than this chapter was a good read. I saw all my decisions at once. I always seemed to take the destructive path, the immoral path. I knew what I had achieved in life, but to see it all on paper is something else. A long list of every life I had touched, had maimed, had been in the presence of. The book had no end, there was an infinite number of pages. More of them dedicated to my possibilities of being a world class artist. By comparison, my real life was miniscule and short.
"Do you regret any choices you've made?" asked God.
"No." I lied. "Well, maybe the suicide."
"Of course" said God, "we all regret our death. If we had just one more day, we could rule the world."
"I did rule the world, once." I said.
"Once." God led me up from the chair and down a set of stairs. A long and winding staircase. The heat was unbearable by the time I got to the last step.
"Adolf, my son, this is your room." said God.
|
First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You set down the book, having read every possible outcome. With tears in your eyes, you look over to your wife, who had died 3 years before. She smiles at you, and hugs you. As you sit there, you know that you made every decision correctly, and wouldn't change a thing.
|
First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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C.S. Lewis was apparently wrong, when he put the words, “'To know what would have happened, child?' said Aslan. 'No. Nobody is ever told that',” into the mouth of his character. Because I had a book in front of me that purported to tell just that. 'Dale Irving, 1927 to 2018, 18 Choices and Their Consequences.'
“18? That's quite good, the average is 10 you know,” The angel who had handed me the book said reading it's title over my shoulder.
“10 what?”
Its eyes were very kind and its voice was calm and soothing, “10 Choices, the average person Chooses 10 times.”
“What?” I asked, and then because I could tell from the look of nearly infinite patients in it's eyes that it was going to explain the exact same thing using slightly different words, I clarified. “The average person makes thousands of choices. Probably thousands a day. You can choose to snooze the alarm or turn it off, then you choose to get up or go back to sleep. You brush your hair first or your teeth. There are several routes you could take to work or you could just drive in a random direction until you don't know anyone and no one there has ever seen you before.”
“Those are just reaction,” the angel said. “Chemicals in your brain combine, it sets off cascades through your nerves, and eventually your bodies move. You don't Choose.”
It was an argument I'd heard before, of course. Everyone has. We're just meat machines. Wires and gears. I started to make the argument that had worked in life, “Quantum...”
The angel cut me off it's voice filled with a well of kindness deeper than the sea. “Certain quantum scale reactions aree stochastic in character. But a coin flip isn't a Choice either.”
I looked down at the book. “But they do exist?”
“You have Free Will.” For the barest instant, wrapped around the word 'you' I got the impression of sadness in the angelic voice. I wonder if perhaps there wasn't a book out there with it's name on it. “It's HIS proudest accomplishment. It pulls you up off the plane of reality and in that instant You Choose free of all else.”
I was still looking at the book. Perhaps 18 wasn't so bad a number after all. I had lived an extraordinary life. I had invented incredible things, made a vast fortune, then pumped it back into making the world a better place. “So now I read this and learn what they were? What would have happened if I'd Chosen something else?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
The angel smiled, a warm golden expression, “And then you learn more about Choosing and how to do it more often.”
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First, I went to all my worst moments. And it kept happening - "Why was there no choice here?" Maybe half the time I had a choice about it, but about as often, the most recent choice could not have predictably led to this horrible moment, and yet I was stuck with it. I had no option not to be dismissive of Michael. I had no option not to be overbearing towards Ann. It didn't seem fair. It got better about that towards the end, at least.
Then I looked at all my best moments. Again it kept happening - I usually just did it without it being a choice at all. I just did it. Actually, here it was more often. I would have a choice about something not all that relevant to the great thing I'm about to do. Choose to stay in my dorm room and play a game, which changes when I'm walking down the path and boom no choice I'm saving that professor with the heart condition. Choose to walk out on that dumb movie, and with no more choices I end up talking Ellie out of suicide (not that I knew it was THAT important to her without reading the other branch of that choice).
And those choices - they were… so… trivial-seeming. You hardly ever had enough information to really decide one way or another. Why not make it based on skill? Then if you're better or worse at it, you'd… do…
I realized what made the choices - things I was actually on the fence about. Things where I couldn't decide, and didn't see one thing as better. If I could see one side as being better, I'd just do that thing. The sections with no choice were just who I was.
|
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"What's this?" I asked as the giant man angel handed me a book.
"This is your life, as well as all the options you never took. We like to hand these out to the new people so they can see what would have come if they had made other choices in their life."
"Huh, so kind of like that movie, 'It's a wonderful life'. Well, no thanks" I said as I handed the book back to the man angel.
"What do you mean?"
"Look, there are choices I made and didn't make. Some led to regrets and others not. My life choices were not about making the right ones, but being okay with the choices I made and being grateful for making my life the best I could in spite of my choices."
"Are you not curious?"
"Hell no. Why would I want to see that if I had only asked out Barb in twelfth grade, my life would have bee so much better? Sounds like misery to me."
"Yes but what of that outcome would have shown you how much worse your life would have been, and instead validates your choice to not ask her out?"
"Who cares? I know what I did and did not do and am happy with it. Are you gonna open these gates for me or do I have to climb over them?"
The giant man angel smiled, turned to the side and the gates opened.
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"What's this?!" I exclaim, looking at the Angel in disgust.
"Well my son, it's an approximation of your life's worth!" the angel beams.
"Gabriel, it's literally just a picture of Sonichu, a really explicit fan fiction of me and Danny Devito, and 17 pages covered in feces and dorito crumbs!"
"I know", Gabriel laughs as he sheepishly looks at the ground.
"I worked really hard on it!"
In exasperation I throw my head back and catch sight of the pearly gates I came through earlier. Then I notice something I'd overlooked before.
I fall to my knees in disbelief as Gabriel starts pulling spaghetti out of his pockets and pressing it into my hair.
"It's... a 4-leaf clover."
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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The book about my life will indeed be full of adventures with all the right and wrong decisions I have ever made. There will be part of the book that will mention my decision to marry a guy who would eventually abandon me and my son but it will also mention that out of that wrong decision, the outcome was the best thing that ever happened to me, my son.
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I'm a bot, *bleep*, *bloop*. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:
- [/r/lssmobtest] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/LssMobTest/comments/8w070f/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_japeniel] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_japeniel/comments/8w0kkg/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_serenitymccool] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_SerenityMcCool/comments/8w0j78/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_tmg9348] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_tmg9348/comments/8w13sq/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"Die."
That is what was written on the cover of my book.
"Die."
No, I tell a lie.
I wasn't holding a book in my hands, but a simple cardboard sheet that bore only that simple word.
"Die."
I remember that much, though I didn't know the word at the time.
I felt my body torn apart.
I felt pain.
I screamed howls that no-one ever heard.
All around me, everyone else, it seemed, had books of adventure. Mystery, options.
I ... I had a mother who did not want me.
I had no choices in my life.
No pages.
A life of no memories.
"Die."
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- [/r/lssmobtest] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/LssMobTest/comments/8w070f/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_japeniel] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_japeniel/comments/8w0kkg/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_serenitymccool] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_SerenityMcCool/comments/8w0j78/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_tmg9348] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_tmg9348/comments/8w13sq/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
I held the book,
Felt its weight.
Hefted it,
Like a lodestone on my future.
I looked near the beginning,
Where the jumps were large,
The changes so drastic,
The choices heavy.
I turned to the back,
It read like a novel,
Each decision short,
Small,
Meaningless.
Ah, the old maxim was true,
With age all choices grow small,
And a man can choose,
Only what he must.
I closed the book.
It was taken from me,
Freed from the questions,
Uncaring of the answers,
I continued to walk.
|
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- [/r/lssmobtest] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/LssMobTest/comments/8w070f/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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- [/r/u_serenitymccool] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_SerenityMcCool/comments/8w0j78/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_tmg9348] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_tmg9348/comments/8w13sq/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You open to a random page, read the words "you are now a handsome billionaire, loved by all, especially your harem of gorgeous women." and frantically try to reverse engineer what series of events got you to this outcome. You realize you deviated from the path due to a seemingly inconsequential choice you made because it was funny, and are now miserable for eternity.
|
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- [/r/lssmobtest] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/LssMobTest/comments/8w070f/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
I closed the book. “What is this?” I asked.
“I thought it pretty self explanatory. Its a book about the decisions you made and what the outcomes could’ve been” said the angel.
“Well yes, but why? Why would I want to read about the possible outcomes now that I am deceased?”
The angle sighed, as if they were annoyed by my inquiry. “Some people like to see where they could have been and if a different decision was made, how their life could have been.”
I paused for a moment, still holding the book in my hand. The leather quality was nice. I quickly paged through it, noting that varying in age of the ink as someone had written each section after each possible decision. The ink in the back pages still seemingly fresh and not aged. If the angels were writing these by hand, I felt bad for those that had to write this stuff out for people with severe ADD.
My questions continued. “But why? The decisions I made through my life were not ones I can or could change. Why would I want to see what I *could* have done when I am here now. Isn’t that what matters?”
The angel changed from annoyed to curious. “Are you saying you wouldn’t change any of the decisions you made? Aren’t you curious about that the one girl you never asked out, or the day you took that phone call?”
Of course I was always curious. Those simply decisions would crop up in dreams or when I saw someone more successful than I. The decisions I made and how maybe I could have done better.
“Well, sure. But the outcome could only be relief if I had done worse or heartache if I could had done better. Certainly I had regrets about things I didn’t get to do or opportunities I missed out on but they are only mild regrets. The things I did do gave me meaning and fulfillment in their own way.”
The angels curiosity continued. “You say had… meaning you don’t have them anymore?”
“Why would I have them now? If I am deceased, there is nothing from my living life that came with me other than my memories so why would that matter here? I tried to live a positive life and do the right things when possible. Why would I worry about that life now?”
The look on the angles face shifted to a mild sense of superiority. “What if I told you it *did* matter?”
“Well then we are back to my original point: the decisions have been made and I can’t go back to change them. If I am going to be punished for any one of the decisions, why would I want to dwell on them? If I were to be rewarded, then so be it.”
The angel was quiet for some time as if they were conferring with someone telepathically or simply being decisive about lunch, it was unclear.
I pressed on. “So if I am choosing not to read this, what’s next?”
The angel disregarded my question. “What if I told you this is your only chance to read this? You will never get a chance to learn this information again.”
I chuckled in anxious amusement. “Why are *you* so adamant that I read it? Is there something you aren’t telling me about why I should?”
“None. My purpose is provide you with the book. Just like your mortal life, the decision is your own. I will say however that your decision not read it follows quite clearly with your choices for meaning rather than self indulgence.”
I paused at the angels words. Was this a compliment or an insult? I handed the book back to them.
The angel nodded and took the book from my hands. They continued. “Even those that find that kind of wisdom later in life still tend to want to read it. Usually out of indulgence. The wisest however recognize that reading the decisions themselves are more knowledge despite the fact there is nothing that can be done.”
The angel gently held the book up towards me as one last gesture of opportunity. I smiled and pushed their hand away. “It sounds like I still have quite a bit to learn then.”
“Very well” said the angel. “I must ask though, aren’t you curious about the decision that ultimately led you here?”
I let out a huge laugh as if someone had told funniest joke in the world. “Nope. I knew that decision would come back to get me one day.”
The angle smirked, trying to contain their own sense of laughter. “Very well. Follow me.”
|
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- [/r/u_japeniel] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_japeniel/comments/8w0kkg/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_serenitymccool] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_SerenityMcCool/comments/8w0j78/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
Before I die, I want to make sure that the book of my life will be worth reading. That I have lived a full life without stepping on someone's toes. That though there may have been peaks and valleys, I have served my purpose and that I was able to inspire others.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I was dead...at the moment I was born.
It was too late because I'm already dead.
I've been given a name, a country, a religion, a skin color and assigned sex. Everything was decided for me and they all expect me to fight for it.
And this book...as thick as crackers of a biscuit. At the last page...
Page 50.
"Went outside to find the perfect view to be run over by a car. You could have live this time but the world is too cruel. The car left seeing that no one saw the incident. You were left there to die. How do you feel old soul?"
I wasn't able to do what I want...what did I even want to do with my life?
"There's no use fretting over that now, right?"
"Yeah, It's too late."
The voices in my head went...they argued and argued but all of that is white noise to me.
Standing in the purgatory, reading my 50 pages book.
"Maybe...just maybe, In my next life...I will get it right!" - I mumbled as I start to grabbed in, this newly found determination that came from a pitifull pit of my unsatisfaction with life.
Afterall, this isn't the first time I lived and wrote my life's story in a book.
Afterall, there is always a second chance for everything.
Maybe, Afterall these lives...I'd find her...my other half.
"Come on! I have my next life to live." - I said to the voices...
"Wait for me."
"Well, if I have any? Who knows? She might have gave up living at this point."
Tap Tap Tap
Creeeekk...
Title: "Shortest Life in the Library of Lives."
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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The tome lay heavy in my hand. Immaculate penmanship neatly filled every page even as the number of pages stretched and warped to fit perhaps an infinite number within the leather-clad bindings.
Death, for who else could it have been, stood silently within the hooded robe concealing his face.
"This," I started to say, wanting to make sure I understood what I had been given. "This contains the stories of all the possible decisions I could have made, all my choices and their consequences... from birth all the way to my inevitable deaths?"
"YES."
I stared at the book. My whole life, no, all my possible lives. Every selfless and selfish decision, all the heroic and villanous moments, with the opposite paths laid out to show what could have been.
What never had been.
I closed the book, feeling an anger rising from within. "Take it."
"WHAT?"
"Take it," I said again, holding the book out to his skeletal fingers. "Burn it."
Empty sockets stared at me as the tome, page still open to perfect parchment, was lifted from my hands. Death paused then asked, "WHY?"
I glared back at the skull. "I lived my life. I made my choices. Good and bad, they were mine. The consequences were mine and I'll own those forever. Being brave enough to believe in the fantasy of love and then working hard to make it a reality? Mine. Choosing to be a father to a child who's sad fate seemed already written and holding her close as she died? Mine. Dealing with betrayals and pain? Mine. Moments of weakness, cowardice, and of laziness? Mine. What may have been is meaningless."
With a growl I pointed at the book. "That isn't real. That isn't true. My choices made me who I am. All the way to when you fished me out of the wreckage my body had become. There's no point in either wallowing in over how much better things could have been, or letting myself swell with pride over how things could have been worse. What was, was. And I am who I am. So burn that, throw it away. I don't want it."
With a loud snap, Death closed the book. As I watched, it burst into flames and quickly became ash flowing away in the ethereal wind.
I felt a tension in my soul ease and I asked, "Now what?"
Behind the dark figure a light had begun to shine. "NOW YOU ARE READY FOR WHAT COMES NEXT."
He moved aside. And I walked forward.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I was smiling as I read the first hundred pages or so.
Those were the early days of my life. When I was still young and was playing terrible make believe games with my brothers and sisters. The multitude of choices here never amounted to anything significant.
*Decided to agree with sisters; Page 539*
*Decided to agree with brothers; Page 540*
No real differences that amounted to anything bigger.
That was fine. I was actually sort of relieved at that, relieved to know that those choices could never really affect what happened later on.
"You're stalling," He said. The tone wasn't accusatory nor was it complacent. It just sort of was. Pissed me off a bit actually.
"Yeah, I am," I scoffed turning to him. "These were the better days. Can't I enjoy them?"
"You can't leave unless the book is done. Those are the rules," He answered. Again, you couldn't get anything out of his voice. It just sort of was.
"Is there a problem if I don't go?"
"No. The schedule can be changed."
"Than let me read at my own pace, okay?" I called as I turned to the book again. "'Sides, I'm not going to read all of it."
I wasn't lying. One of my many faults. I wasn't going to waste my time reading every single one of the outcomes that could have occurred if I had chosen a different path. Just the cliff-notes of 'em.
I turned back to the index to look up what I believed was the big turning point of my life. When I was finally able to see that the cogs weren't alright.
*The fight at the bar; Page 12,443*
I threw the pages until I found what I was looking for. I was actually surprised when I saw that there weren't many choices for this point in my life.
*Through a knock-out punch; Page 12,511*
*Through a punch; Page 12,444*
Both scenarios had me fighting which was odd. I thought that maybe there would have been a choice that didn't have me fighting. Guess that wasn't in my path.
I turned to the end of the fight, knowing that if this wasn't origin point of what I become, than the end of the fight would have been.
Lo' and Behold I was right.
*Go back to drinking; Page 12,677*
*Scare his mates; Page 12,788*
*Glass his mates; Page 12,877*
*Finish the fight; Page 12, 554*
That was it. The point where my life started. I flipped forward a bunch of pages to see what my choice where at another point. I actually laughed out loud when I saw that there were only three options.
*Join; Page 23,111*
*Ignore; Page 23,311*
*Rat them out; Page 24,555*
"Zeus be damned, I was set up from the start," I said as I continued to read down the path I had taken.
*Burn the church; Page 25,666*
*Burn the Government Building; Page 25,776*
*Execute the Bishop; Page 25,987*
*Let the crowds handle him: Page 26,001*
*Throw the Molotov Cocktail; Page 27,244*
*Use the flamethrower; Page 27,300*
*Hang the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,101* *Behead the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,180* *Fire the first shot; Page 35,188* *Call in for a Volley Fire; Page 35,201* *Blow up the Parliament Building; Page 36,333* *Storm the Parliament Building; Page 36, 389*
I continued to read down the path I had chosen, only occasionally glancing at the other possible outcomes of the action I could've taken. My smile never faded as I continued to read down the list of the methods of torture, the people killed, the lives thrown into chaos, the bodies that drowned in the wake of the choices I made.
When I was satisfied with what I read, I loudly slammed the book. Just I was began to reach into my pocket, he called over, " Ready to go on?"
"Give me a sec," I said, as I pulled out my trusty friend. Without a second thought, I flick it up and let the flames lick at the edges of the book. It was only a couple more second before the book I was holding in my hands had caught fire and was burning with a strangely calming orange flame. After I felt satisfied with the results of my actions, I walked over the him, throwing the book over my shoulder.
"It will not be destroyed."
"Figured as much. The place seemed to Holy and shit," I answered with a smile. "So, did I get to pick the ride or it just an instantaneous thing. I always figure that singing 'Highway to Hell' while headin' to hell would always be funny as hell."
"You don't have any qualms about your actions?" The only time I could tell there was an emotion or a hint of something human.
"No. I was broken from the start. Besides, I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't chosen the revolution, I would have been a lot less justified in my doings. Maybe some good came out of my actions. Maybe some didn't. I don't really care. I know where I was headed the second, I start on my path. I just hope you guys do your worst."
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I remember a line from a TV show that was like, "I had hundreds of plans in my life, and only one of them got me killed!"
That's--that *was*--my life, and apparently that *is* this book. Jesus Christ, there's a lot of death in here. It's a miracle I lived as long as I did.
Flipping through page after page, I remember the ridiculous things I used to do, with my friends, with Jake, on my own, everything. All these things that I thought to myself, "how bad could it be?" and here I am looking at how bad it could have been. But I guess if there's all that bad, maybe...
Jake.
Jump over to October 15th, 2004. The last of the BBQ Fridays of the season. Select "let Jake crash on the couch." Play.
It turns out Jake turns into a real asshole sometime in the late 2000s and even in what would be now, nobody in my family barely speaks to him. I don't care, I get to see him grow old.
It's like when I first discovered Wikipedia, walking down all these what-ifs and different timelines and seeing how they bounce off of one another. February 18, 1985. "Choose Mom." Play. Jake's less of an asshole there, somehow, and apparently I never stopped talking to that Jake. October 31, 1988. "Let Jake be Batman." Play. Doesn't change much, but it's great watching him run around and exasperate either parent in the timelines. August 12, 2002. "Accept job in Alaska." Play. Long-distance calls makes keeping in touch with family difficult, but we ICQ from time to time. He's still alive there. It's Asshole Jake, but he's still there. I die earlier, though.
October 15th, 2019. "Don't drink." Play.
...well, I continue living, I guess. Not much of a life at this point, but it's something.
Think I'll keep watching these other timelines instead.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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First time, and typed on a phone in the middle of the night. Please be gentle...
The book, if you could call it a book, was handed to me with an air of indifference that I did not believe was befitting of my life. A cross between what I understood as a hard drive and a chose your owb adventure, all of the billions upon billions of versions of me were stored upon this one device.
I looked up. The thing that had handed me the device was gone. All that was left was the burning curiousity and the fright that I had wasted my life.
I skimmed through my life. Love, loss, success, failure. From my first kiss to the death of my father, every moment. I relived it all, just as realistic as if it was the present.
I stopped. I had lived my life. Time to see the path of an alternate me.
School gymnasium, 1998. Final year of school. I chose differently. No longer did I ask for Angela's number after the exam. Instead, I sat in anticipation, waiting to feel the difference of my life without her. Without my Angel.
Ready to see if I could bear my life without her. I waited, slumped, head down at my desk. My life, lost, in a moment. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see if I could live without her.
I hear feet approach my desk. Somewhere, outside the gymnasium, she would be saying her goodbyes. Where I was, those 20 years ago. My life had been short, but it had been worth it with her.
"Hi". I looked up. She had waited.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I died alone. Missing my children and wife after the car crash 30 years ago. I had had a few drinks that night and though technically sober, I always felt like it was my fault or wondered what I could have done better.. In my grief, i left the home we built together and all friends we had made over the years would write and call occasionally, but would always want to start talking about how I had to buck up or move on.
I had tried to date, even had a few great dogs to keep me company over the years but it was never the same. I decided to get over my fears by helping others. I joined AA, I helped build parks and named the playgrounds after my children. I even named a bench for my wife and ate there every Sunday for nearly 30 years.
When I finally died and went to heaven, I was given a book. It was strange though. I got to read about the lives of all the decisions s that never happened because of that one day. I got to see pictures of my children going to prom. I got to see my wife get old. I couldn’t believe it but I was supposed to have twins! St Peter looked at me and asked me a single question. “Would you do things differently now that you know what you lost”? I heard later other people waited decades before answering, but I knew my answer immediately. “No. I have made mistakes, many of them in my lifetime. However, if this is heaven, my wife and kids are here and already know that I never stopped loving them and went on with my life helping others each day while thinking of them”.
St Peter smiled and said “welcome back to your family”.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
Like countless times before I pick up the book of my life, filled with all the decisions I did and could have done, it was more of an e-Book really, displayed on what looks like a Kindle, changing the contents of the page based on what I told it would be my decision.
Today I tried my luck with yet another unexplored path, choosing to take the job as a programmer after my studies had concluded.
And there I sat, reading for what had to be days upon days about what life would have entailed, always making the decision that seemed the most natural to me and then often going back a step and trying the other routes life could have had in store for me.
When I finally finished I had a smile on my face, no matter what I had chosen, no matter what path I went, it always ended in a miserable and bitter life, just like the countless times I had done this before.
I had yet another hundred paths that all support my final decision, the decision that had been bothering me for many years prior to my death and the more stories I read, the more I got to know about what my life could have been, the more it became clear, that the one correct decision I took in life, was to take it.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"I don't want it," I said, pushing the book away. Although standing in a white room, pain free and healthy, despite being 93, I knew what this book meant.
"We give you the option-"
"I understand," I responded crisply, "but angels don't understand some of the pains humans go through."
"Your abusive past-"
"Will remain that way," I tell him, looking down, "I can't relive it, and I can't see what would of happened had I not gone out that night. Or, had I ended it. If I told my parents no that one time. So no, I won't read it."
"Very well," he said, the book disappearing, "follow me please, God is waiting. He knew you were going to turn it down."
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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Heaven's a great library, and everyone has a library card. Even those destined for hell have a library card.
I was alone, sat in a room with a large book. It's cover was dusty, as if waiting for me. I knew as soon as I opened it that time would stand still. God told me that. God told me everything that wasn't in this book. I could have been a painter, a truly great painter like Rembrandt. The book had all these illustrations I drew, every single one. From doodles on napkins to a mural I could have painted in a Roman cathedral. My real life, the one that ended much sooner than this chapter was a good read. I saw all my decisions at once. I always seemed to take the destructive path, the immoral path. I knew what I had achieved in life, but to see it all on paper is something else. A long list of every life I had touched, had maimed, had been in the presence of. The book had no end, there was an infinite number of pages. More of them dedicated to my possibilities of being a world class artist. By comparison, my real life was miniscule and short.
"Do you regret any choices you've made?" asked God.
"No." I lied. "Well, maybe the suicide."
"Of course" said God, "we all regret our death. If we had just one more day, we could rule the world."
"I did rule the world, once." I said.
"Once." God led me up from the chair and down a set of stairs. A long and winding staircase. The heat was unbearable by the time I got to the last step.
"Adolf, my son, this is your room." said God.
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- [/r/u_serenitymccool] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_SerenityMcCool/comments/8w0j78/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You set down the book, having read every possible outcome. With tears in your eyes, you look over to your wife, who had died 3 years before. She smiles at you, and hugs you. As you sit there, you know that you made every decision correctly, and wouldn't change a thing.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I thumbed through the pages to see no penned illustrations. I flipped back to the first page of the book to see who authored this piece, expecting to see my own name. "Greasy Greg" is certainly not my name nor a handle I've ever used. I flipped to the back to read the ending of whatever route was on the last page. It said, "but damned if you do, damned if you don't, and now Croatia is underwater."
"Ugh, creative non-fiction isn't really my thing," I said as I passed back the book.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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C.S. Lewis was apparently wrong, when he put the words, “'To know what would have happened, child?' said Aslan. 'No. Nobody is ever told that',” into the mouth of his character. Because I had a book in front of me that purported to tell just that. 'Dale Irving, 1927 to 2018, 18 Choices and Their Consequences.'
“18? That's quite good, the average is 10 you know,” The angel who had handed me the book said reading it's title over my shoulder.
“10 what?”
Its eyes were very kind and its voice was calm and soothing, “10 Choices, the average person Chooses 10 times.”
“What?” I asked, and then because I could tell from the look of nearly infinite patients in it's eyes that it was going to explain the exact same thing using slightly different words, I clarified. “The average person makes thousands of choices. Probably thousands a day. You can choose to snooze the alarm or turn it off, then you choose to get up or go back to sleep. You brush your hair first or your teeth. There are several routes you could take to work or you could just drive in a random direction until you don't know anyone and no one there has ever seen you before.”
“Those are just reaction,” the angel said. “Chemicals in your brain combine, it sets off cascades through your nerves, and eventually your bodies move. You don't Choose.”
It was an argument I'd heard before, of course. Everyone has. We're just meat machines. Wires and gears. I started to make the argument that had worked in life, “Quantum...”
The angel cut me off it's voice filled with a well of kindness deeper than the sea. “Certain quantum scale reactions aree stochastic in character. But a coin flip isn't a Choice either.”
I looked down at the book. “But they do exist?”
“You have Free Will.” For the barest instant, wrapped around the word 'you' I got the impression of sadness in the angelic voice. I wonder if perhaps there wasn't a book out there with it's name on it. “It's HIS proudest accomplishment. It pulls you up off the plane of reality and in that instant You Choose free of all else.”
I was still looking at the book. Perhaps 18 wasn't so bad a number after all. I had lived an extraordinary life. I had invented incredible things, made a vast fortune, then pumped it back into making the world a better place. “So now I read this and learn what they were? What would have happened if I'd Chosen something else?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
The angel smiled, a warm golden expression, “And then you learn more about Choosing and how to do it more often.”
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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A bookcase floated before me. I had taken a cursory glance over the first of the matching volumes to discover the old instructions of a choose your own adventure novel that I hadn't seen since elementary school. I flipped through several pages of nonsense before catching sight of something about a lemon that I recognized from an old story mom would always tell about me. It occurred to me immediately what these volumes were.
So now I've just been floating here with it. Not reading yet. Still lamenting that I did end up being doomed to spend eternity in an afterlife after all. But also trying to compile all the what ifs I had been asking myself over the years. This system was rather inconvenient. I didn't want to work my way from the beginning, I just wanted to know outcomes of certain scenarios, and I wouldn't remember the steps I took to get to those decisions in the first place.
I tried to sleep on a strategy. Not sure it worked, or how much time passed while my eyes were closed, but when I opened them, there was now a computer and only one book. I glanced down at the book, lying open, and saw a recounting of a rather tender moment, but was also able to verify that I did indeed know a certain someone at that point, despite having forgotten that I had ever spoken to them not a decade later.
I move over to the computer monitor and am greeted with a lovely file system organized by year. Excellent. Glad to see that the bookcase does have the capacity to shift forms.
I greedily open up the folder for grade 7, am greeted with more folders, this time listing categories. Click into the romance folder, and I'm now given a series of multiple choice questions in a new window. I see all the situations are written in purple text, and the choices I had made originally were underlined in purple.
I find the first question of curiosity, the first secret love letter I got. I change the response to "keep quiet" and notice that some scenarios vanish, with new ones in green appearing in their place. A flutter attracts my attention to the book in time to see it rest on the page in question as some of the text fades and is replaced. Excitedly I check to see if I called her out on it when she said she heard I got one. And true to my original choice, I remained quiet. No worries, I can change that choice too. I glance at the screen...and no choice exists. I flip through the book in confusion, only to discover that I was just to naive to put two and two together in the first place.
Lovely.
I hit restore defualts and proceed to run experiments. First, each change of decision introduces new colours. This gets complicated past 10 changes trying to keep track of which shades came from which choices, but whatever. Also, the book now flips to the stage in life that will answer whatever question I had. Efficiency.
Two girls I could have dated. Both of which I was too hesitant due to my own lack of knowledge. Both of which fell into drugs in high school. I test what happens with each. One of them, we dated for a bit before she broke up with me and ended up in drugs anyway. That's a relief I guess. Other one, oh yikes, I ended up in drugs too. Wasn't expecting that to happen.
Tried making decisions to lead me down more creative endeavours than I had actually chosen. Mixed results. Seems I was never really satisfied there. I'd get lots of better things accompanied with worse things. Sometimes the book would noticeably shrink too.
It got even more harrowing when I started playing around with the choices during university. About half of them resulted in the book shrinking. Particularly any choice that moved towards parental dependence. I mean, I joked about that a lot after moving out, but I don't think I ever realized just how much potential for it actually existed.
Tried out different cities for when I left my hometown. Ultimately still ended up in the same place no matter my choice, but it was interesting how things during that intermediary period got altered. Seemed that I had picked the middle path in terms of happiness and success for my late 20s.
Finally with the most what ifs out of the way, I took a breath and set out on the last of these projects, the one I was saving for last, because I knew it would take the longest. I find my way to the day my university girlfriend broke up with me. I change the response I gave just before then, check out the book...
...and start working backwards.
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- [/r/lssmobtest] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/LssMobTest/comments/8w070f/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I stared at the corner, where two walls joined.
The thing about eternity, is that small fragments of time cease to mean anything. When you're twenty, a year goes by like a month. When you're 50, they seem to fly by like days. I was lucky enough to leave that concept behind before I got too far beyond 50.
I had been staring at the wall for a very long time. I flexed my hand, feeling the immaterium of my projected consciousness stretch and contort, ghosts of tendons displacing veins and muscle, which only existed for as long as my attention span. It was translucent, but only because I knew what was inside. I returned my blank gaze to studying the wall. I knew what kind of Nothing was inside that too. The Room constituted Everything. The sum capacity of my new universe was 15ft by 15ft by 15ft. And the Book.
I felt another well of discomfort, rising in a throat that didn't exist, anxiety flooding through my body, imaginary hormones riding blood that dried up centuries ago. Centuries? Centuries. Probably. Those things hadn't meant anything for a while. At first I had obsessively kept track of time, guessing and reguessing and estimating and correcting. That mania overtook me about twenty years in, but after a while, I realised that time only meant something when it was heading somewhere. There was only This. There was only Now. There was only the Book.
And there was The Wall. Steven studied the wall. It was smooth, and grey, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could see the swirls in the fabric of reality, compounded and solidified into this glorious, perfect monument, exact, square, and _solid_. If he peered in, deeper, hot, white clusters pulsate, flitting around each other in a flirtatious dance, twining themselves in strands of ether, never quite touching, until, rejected, they collapse, retreat, and form a new dance. Or maybe they didn't. He reached out to touch the wall, and found that his fingers met substance. He felt the distal phalange of his index finger squish through meat, straining to make contact, to reach through the wall and join the cosmic dance. A tear that didn't exist rolled down a face that had never been seen. One was joined by others, which became None as soon as they left his face. He stroked the wall with five finger tips, and let his hand find the corner.
He hadn't moved away from the corner for a very long time. He hadn't looked at the Book for even longer. A while ago, he switched corners, but that was just because he came to know all of the white specks on that side. He predicted a year's worth of their movements, and after that he got bored. He had laughed when he first woken up with the book, and spent a year studiously ignoring it. To acknowledge it would be to give power to whatever put him here. And anyway, he was never much of a reader. But sooner or later, he had thumbed it open. Later, in this case. As his thoughts on time shifted, Later ceased to exist. The thing about eternity is, you'll do anything to fill the now, to push Later out of your mind. Later isn't something that you want to exist.
The Book was a thing of beauty. The cover was plain, and uninteresting, but it was so unassailably _real_, that it felt like it carried the sum total of everything inside. Maybe it did. Despite the number of pages, they never ran out. You flick 10,000 pages to find out where one option takes you, and still find yourself in the middle. That's part of the problem. It was entertaining for a while. Steven saw where his life led, and then the life of somebody almost like him. And then somebody slightly further away, a distant, less Steven, Steven. In fact, Steven had read, lead, visualised and been defeated, loved, lost, murdered, been killed, died of diabetes, killed himself, killed the president, _loved_ the president, a million times over. A billion. It was like an eternity of films. In fact, Steven had lived so many lives, so many Reals that were so different from his own, that Steven no longer remembered which was his own. In fact, the only concrete thing that Steven had left, was the fact that his name was Stephen.
His tears dry by themselves, eventually, and he turns his head to the center of the room, to look at the Book, drawing everything Real into it, like a black hole drawing in light. He stands, and stretches out of habit, feeling muscles sliding over rib bones, feeling lungs expand with un-air. He turns the rest of his body, and begins to place one foot in front of the other. The corner that he was sitting in, and two pieces of wall attached, slowly disperse back into the immaterium.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
"The rarest of tomes," the angel spoke, his hands trembling as he carefully placed a piece of paper in my hands.
"How so?" I asked, puzzled.
"This piece of paper chronicles your entire life. Every good decision, every bad decision, every good moment, every bad."
The paper had under "actions" my date of birth, the words "the calling," and the date of my death. Under "outcome" it simply stated, "unchanged."
I sighed. Having amounted to quite literally nothing in life it was no surprise that even in the afterlife I would have to be reminded of what a failure my life was.
"Ah, yeah, that, I am a failure of epic proportions that much is true," I admitted, handing the paper back.
The angel looked shaken by such an outrage. Holding the paper up he stated, quite simply, "There are few mortal men who are divine saints without knowing it. You spent literal decades without affecting anyone. A saint in a monastery with a completely celebrate pledge doesn't put so much effort into such a display of purity."
"So what now?" I asked, trying not to cringe about the obvious implications of my "purity."
"You will of course join the rest of the purest saints in state as we wait for Armageddon. I think you're a fan of Issac Newton?"
|
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- [/r/lssmobtest] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/LssMobTest/comments/8w070f/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
Once I had acclimatised, they led me into an office. Wood-panelled, decadent, I thought, for this place - but I supposed they moved with the times here as well.
There was a man at the desk dressed in a white-grey suit. Subtle. They had told me about this man, when I had calmed down. He would show me all my significant choices, walk me through them, help me come to terms with them. He would enlighten me and discourage my false beliefs about myself, to cleanse me.
I sat. He gently placed a large, red leather-bound volume on the table. It looked like a Victorian bible, but brand new. I touched the closed leaves of the volume: The pages were going to be petal-like, delicate, just the same as bibles. This book meant something.
“All the choices you have ever had,” said the man in white. “Try it.”
I reached out my hand, hesitated, and looked to him. He exuded authority. He smiled serenely.
“I’ll explain it all. Go on.”
I opened the book.
The first few chapters were uneventful, filled with childhood stories and corrections to memories I had reconstructed in my elderly mind. I remembered my mother and father here- I was smiling. No choices as yet, but I’m only, what, six? Six, that’s.. quite old. I looked up.
The man had been sitting in silence, smiling- at me, or to himself? He sensed my worry. “Significant choices, my friend. At this point, your life is controlled by your parents and you have little perception of wider choice.”
I continued. In year two of school, I was confronted with a choice. Little Jenny was being teased for her broken leg. The other children looked to me.
‘Do you
a) join in with the children teasing Jenny
or
b) tease Jenny along with the children?
for a) go to page 265 or for b) go to page 265.
What?
I looked to the man across the desk. “Your brain factored in being alienated by your peers against hurting Jenny. This one was a dead cert.” He smiled kindly. Satisfied, if still slightly perplexed, I turned my eyes back to the book.
“Jenny was always a sick girl. She hanged herself after the same kind of bullying in her thirties”.
My eyes shot up, staring. The man seemed to look away, since as it to chastise himself. “Of course you can’t be blamed for any of this. You had no choice.”
Shaken, at length I went back to reading. A pattern began to emerge. As I read further, my “significant choices” became more and more frequent. To watch football with the others? To steal some cool pieces of Lego from my friend? To question the nature of my father’s illness...?
And each time, each option is the other, rephrased as if to give some illusion of choice. As I read further, greeted with what could only be described as amused patience from the man in white, all the pages led to the same place.
“What is this?” I asked, finally, battling through the dread of the answer.
“Have you ever heard of determinism? All of us, pawns, players in some shitty game. And you’re here-“
“Here..?”
“-and it’s not about responsibility, it’s about balance. And now you know- this eternity? It’s all gonna be electrical impulses.” The man in white paused strategically. He had done this many times before.
“They said you would help me come to terms with my choices!”
The man in white leaned forward, smiling more explicitly now. “I am. You have none. Submit. These are your terms.”
“...who are you?”
He paused, and then leaned back onto his chair. “Think of yourself as lucky. They live in blissful ignorance up there. Us? We know the nature of things.”
|
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- [/r/lssmobtest] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/LssMobTest/comments/8w070f/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_japeniel] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_japeniel/comments/8w0kkg/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_serenitymccool] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_SerenityMcCool/comments/8w0j78/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_tmg9348] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_tmg9348/comments/8w13sq/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
*Right this way, Mr. Muller*
"Right where?"
*Right here, follow my voice*
I'm not sure where I am. My last memory is getting in my car. I must have had an accident. I feel warm, safe and soft. Is this what painkillers feel like? No wonder everyone and their grandmother is addicted to them.
*Mr. Muller, you're not in the hospital, you're dead!* said the voice again, slightly amused and mocking this time. *See!*
"But ho..." I asked while opening my eyes.
*Works just like it used to, doesn't it? Haha!*
As I first open my eyes everything is bright. If I was still alive it would blind me, it catches me a little off guard. Blinking rapidly I start to make out shelves filled with books.
*Welcome to the eternal library*
The voice that talked to me now has a body, a man, not white in color, not brown or yellowish either. He is very well maintained, wearing a perfectly fitting suit; his long, white hair is combed back behind his ears and falls upon his shoulders like the most vivid waterfall. Behind and next to him seemingly endless shelves of books row up; in the one he's leaning on a single book is missing, I assume it's the one he's holding in his hand.
Coming to my senses I find myself sitting in a very comfortable armchair.
*You already noticed the book, very good, very good. Looks like you're all there. Shall we begin?*
"Wow uhm... who are you? Where exactly am I? Is this heaven?"
*Ha, I thought you'd never ask. Heaven, hell, limbo... let's just call it the library. It's the last step before you find peace. And I... I am Angelo. A pleasure to meet you, Richard Muller.*
"Angelo sounds an awful lot like Angel."
*Don't you get nosy with me now. Come to me, take your book.*
Slowly I'm starting to become aware again of my body but it doesn't feel like it did while I was alive. I'm able to move my body and feel sensations but there is no strain. The provisional groan I do when standing up proved entirely needless for there is no pain in my back, not a single sting. Two steps later I'm standing in front of Angelo, who holds the brown book towards me in just his right hand. I reach out and grab it, the leather feels soft and smooth under my hands.
In golden, beautifully imprinted letters it states "Richard Muller - Allmantown - 791"
"Allmantown, 791... Angelo, this means nothing to me."
*It doesn't need to. Start reading.*
The pages were soft like silk, handwritten in redish golden color. Whenever a choice opened up, I had to decide. Turn to page 922, turn to page 508, turn to page 861. Cry for mother or sleep. Page 1810. Kiss Janie Lowenstein. Page 2941. Drink the Schnaps. Page 3229. Get into the car in the morning. Page 6276. Die. Page 6277.
I have no idea for how long I've been reading and deciding. It could have been half a day, it could have been months.
*Do you remember?*
It's a good question. Do I remember? I remember making the decisions, I remember the content. But do I *remember*?
*Let me be more specific, do you remember how you died?*
"Of course I do, I was hit by a car."
*And?*
I'm feeling very confident in my answer at first, though after a short moment I'm unsure.
"Hold on, I wasn't hit by a car, I was in an accident."
A tense silence.
*And?*
"I fell off a ladder."
*And?*
"I was stabbed by my wife"
*And?*
This cycle continued for what felt like an eternity. No matter how many visions of my own death I revisited, there are always more.
"Why do I see myself dying in these horrible ways?"
*I'm not torturing you, Richard. Look around.*
My view went up from Angelos face, looking around the room.
Richard Streepe - Allmanntown - 792.
Rich Müller - Point Allmanntown - 793.
Richard Muller - Allermannstown - 794.
*You are not the only Richard. You are just the first one to die. Their life is in your hands.*
Angelo grabs the book next to the one he originally handed me and gives it to me.
The first few pages are already written, including possible choices up until that point.
"This book is almost empty, what am I supposed to do with this?"
He steps over to me, reaches into his pocket and gives me a fancy pen.
*It won't be for long. I have an appointment with the first Rebecca Stoner from Cornwall, I'll talk to you later.*
Before disappearing through the shelves he adds, smiling:
*Don't worry though, pens are tax deductible for guardian angels. Welcome to your library*
|
I'm a bot, *bleep*, *bloop*. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:
- [/r/lssmobtest] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/LssMobTest/comments/8w070f/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_japeniel] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_japeniel/comments/8w0kkg/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_serenitymccool] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_SerenityMcCool/comments/8w0j78/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
"Is this some kind of joke?" You ask, barely making any effort to conceal your frustration. You know better than to go off on the first guy you stumble across in the afterlife, but this is growing remarkably tedious.
The man behind the desk doesn't even meet your gaze and seems quite irritated by the disturbance. "I don't know what to tell you, friend. I don't read each book that comes across my desk. You have any idea how many people die a day? I just hand them out."
You plop back down and let out a sigh. Up until this point, the book you hold in your hands has only gone in chronological order. Many pages only end with one choice. Even the ones with multiple paths have zero impact on the "story".
*to pursue a career as an electrician, turn to page 3,283.*
*to pursue a college education, turn to page 3,283.*
You find that if you had gone to college, you merely would have dropped out in less than a semester and become an electrician anyway. Your "choice" amounts to nothing more than an additional paragraph at the top of the page.
You had no real say in any of it. Were all your decisions really so inconsequential?
You don't entertain the thought for long. You know what is to come. You know the moment everything fell apart.
This time you'll turn right.
The day comes. You skim through most of it, you remember the day well. You don't forget a goddamn thing on a day like that. You begin your drive home. You are lost. You're in an unfamiliar neighborhood. It is raining quite hard which obscures your vision. Your GPS on your phone is not responding. You don't remember the way back.
*to turn left, turn to page 48,458.*
Your heart drops in your chest. This couldn't be right. Only one choice. Only one fucking choice.
You slam the book shut. You refuse to relive that. You choose indecision. It seems to be the only other you have, and you'll be damned if this book is going to take that from you.
Hours pass. Days. Weeks perhaps? All the while, the man sits as his desk, reading quietly to himself. He glances up occasionally only to return to his book.
You know the rules. You must finish the book before you can leave this room. Your hands trembling, you resume where you left off.
*to turn left, turn to page 48,458.*
It all happened so fast that it barely registered. All the text captures are the fuzzy details you retained. The briefest glimpse of a bicycle in your headlights. The sudden impact. The sound of a person's head very rapidly meeting pavement. A sound no amount of whiskey will ever drown out or water down. The blood. So much of it. What seems to be an impossible amount of blood.
The woman screaming. The pleas for help.
The therapy. The guilt. The anger. Bewilderment. The copious amounts of alcohol and the many fights that come along with it.
*to tell your wife you understand her decision, turn to page 872,862.*
*to beg her to stay, turn to page 872,862.*
For the next 500 pages or so, your choices are very limited. More often than not there is only one option. This is starting to seem like a sick joke. Eventually, there is one alternative that shows up every now and then that grabs your attention.
*to try to forgive yourself, turn to page 2,567,873.*
Forgive yourself? You will do no such thing.
*to buy another bottle, just turn the page.*
*to try to forgive yourself, turn to page 2,567,873.*
*to browse through that young boy's memorial page on Facebook again, just turn the page*
*to try to forgive yourself, turn to page 2,567,873.*
*To try slicing down the wrist this time, just turn the page*
*to try to forgive yourself, turn to page 2,567,873.*
You just continue turning the page.
*to pull the trigger, close this book now.*
You crumble to the floor and begin to sob uncontrollably. This is the only option you have left. The man sees his cue and walks over to scoop up the book.
"What....what was the point of all that? To torture me? Have I not done that to myself enough?" You didn't realize you were steadily raising your shaking voice as you spoke, but the man remained unfazed.
He turns back, your book tucked under his arm. "You've done that more than enough, my son." He speaks gently for the first time since you began the book.
You slowly stand on legs that barely prove to hold you, desperately hoping he will continue talking.
"You had no choices because you *made* no choice. You were only ever prepared for moments that had already passed. What you could have done differently. You couldn't choose your adventure because you were so fixated on changing it."
You look at the floor, unsure how to respond.
"The path you took is the path that was. Alternate endings are merely an author's fantasy."
You look him in the eyes and nod apprehensively.
"Are you ready to try to forgive yourself?"
"....I can try."
He hands the book back to you.
"You know what to do."
|
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- [/r/lssmobtest] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/LssMobTest/comments/8w070f/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_japeniel] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_japeniel/comments/8w0kkg/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_serenitymccool] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_SerenityMcCool/comments/8w0j78/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
- [/r/u_tmg9348] [\[WP\] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_tmg9348/comments/8w13sq/wp_after_you_die_youre_handed_a_book_about_your/)
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
The book about my life will indeed be full of adventures with all the right and wrong decisions I have ever made. There will be part of the book that will mention my decision to marry a guy who would eventually abandon me and my son but it will also mention that out of that wrong decision, the outcome was the best thing that ever happened to me, my son.
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
"Die."
That is what was written on the cover of my book.
"Die."
No, I tell a lie.
I wasn't holding a book in my hands, but a simple cardboard sheet that bore only that simple word.
"Die."
I remember that much, though I didn't know the word at the time.
I felt my body torn apart.
I felt pain.
I screamed howls that no-one ever heard.
All around me, everyone else, it seemed, had books of adventure. Mystery, options.
I ... I had a mother who did not want me.
I had no choices in my life.
No pages.
A life of no memories.
"Die."
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
I held the book,
Felt its weight.
Hefted it,
Like a lodestone on my future.
I looked near the beginning,
Where the jumps were large,
The changes so drastic,
The choices heavy.
I turned to the back,
It read like a novel,
Each decision short,
Small,
Meaningless.
Ah, the old maxim was true,
With age all choices grow small,
And a man can choose,
Only what he must.
I closed the book.
It was taken from me,
Freed from the questions,
Uncaring of the answers,
I continued to walk.
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
You open to a random page, read the words "you are now a handsome billionaire, loved by all, especially your harem of gorgeous women." and frantically try to reverse engineer what series of events got you to this outcome. You realize you deviated from the path due to a seemingly inconsequential choice you made because it was funny, and are now miserable for eternity.
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
I closed the book. “What is this?” I asked.
“I thought it pretty self explanatory. Its a book about the decisions you made and what the outcomes could’ve been” said the angel.
“Well yes, but why? Why would I want to read about the possible outcomes now that I am deceased?”
The angle sighed, as if they were annoyed by my inquiry. “Some people like to see where they could have been and if a different decision was made, how their life could have been.”
I paused for a moment, still holding the book in my hand. The leather quality was nice. I quickly paged through it, noting that varying in age of the ink as someone had written each section after each possible decision. The ink in the back pages still seemingly fresh and not aged. If the angels were writing these by hand, I felt bad for those that had to write this stuff out for people with severe ADD.
My questions continued. “But why? The decisions I made through my life were not ones I can or could change. Why would I want to see what I *could* have done when I am here now. Isn’t that what matters?”
The angel changed from annoyed to curious. “Are you saying you wouldn’t change any of the decisions you made? Aren’t you curious about that the one girl you never asked out, or the day you took that phone call?”
Of course I was always curious. Those simply decisions would crop up in dreams or when I saw someone more successful than I. The decisions I made and how maybe I could have done better.
“Well, sure. But the outcome could only be relief if I had done worse or heartache if I could had done better. Certainly I had regrets about things I didn’t get to do or opportunities I missed out on but they are only mild regrets. The things I did do gave me meaning and fulfillment in their own way.”
The angels curiosity continued. “You say had… meaning you don’t have them anymore?”
“Why would I have them now? If I am deceased, there is nothing from my living life that came with me other than my memories so why would that matter here? I tried to live a positive life and do the right things when possible. Why would I worry about that life now?”
The look on the angles face shifted to a mild sense of superiority. “What if I told you it *did* matter?”
“Well then we are back to my original point: the decisions have been made and I can’t go back to change them. If I am going to be punished for any one of the decisions, why would I want to dwell on them? If I were to be rewarded, then so be it.”
The angel was quiet for some time as if they were conferring with someone telepathically or simply being decisive about lunch, it was unclear.
I pressed on. “So if I am choosing not to read this, what’s next?”
The angel disregarded my question. “What if I told you this is your only chance to read this? You will never get a chance to learn this information again.”
I chuckled in anxious amusement. “Why are *you* so adamant that I read it? Is there something you aren’t telling me about why I should?”
“None. My purpose is provide you with the book. Just like your mortal life, the decision is your own. I will say however that your decision not read it follows quite clearly with your choices for meaning rather than self indulgence.”
I paused at the angels words. Was this a compliment or an insult? I handed the book back to them.
The angel nodded and took the book from my hands. They continued. “Even those that find that kind of wisdom later in life still tend to want to read it. Usually out of indulgence. The wisest however recognize that reading the decisions themselves are more knowledge despite the fact there is nothing that can be done.”
The angel gently held the book up towards me as one last gesture of opportunity. I smiled and pushed their hand away. “It sounds like I still have quite a bit to learn then.”
“Very well” said the angel. “I must ask though, aren’t you curious about the decision that ultimately led you here?”
I let out a huge laugh as if someone had told funniest joke in the world. “Nope. I knew that decision would come back to get me one day.”
The angle smirked, trying to contain their own sense of laughter. “Very well. Follow me.”
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
The tome lay heavy in my hand. Immaculate penmanship neatly filled every page even as the number of pages stretched and warped to fit perhaps an infinite number within the leather-clad bindings.
Death, for who else could it have been, stood silently within the hooded robe concealing his face.
"This," I started to say, wanting to make sure I understood what I had been given. "This contains the stories of all the possible decisions I could have made, all my choices and their consequences... from birth all the way to my inevitable deaths?"
"YES."
I stared at the book. My whole life, no, all my possible lives. Every selfless and selfish decision, all the heroic and villanous moments, with the opposite paths laid out to show what could have been.
What never had been.
I closed the book, feeling an anger rising from within. "Take it."
"WHAT?"
"Take it," I said again, holding the book out to his skeletal fingers. "Burn it."
Empty sockets stared at me as the tome, page still open to perfect parchment, was lifted from my hands. Death paused then asked, "WHY?"
I glared back at the skull. "I lived my life. I made my choices. Good and bad, they were mine. The consequences were mine and I'll own those forever. Being brave enough to believe in the fantasy of love and then working hard to make it a reality? Mine. Choosing to be a father to a child who's sad fate seemed already written and holding her close as she died? Mine. Dealing with betrayals and pain? Mine. Moments of weakness, cowardice, and of laziness? Mine. What may have been is meaningless."
With a growl I pointed at the book. "That isn't real. That isn't true. My choices made me who I am. All the way to when you fished me out of the wreckage my body had become. There's no point in either wallowing in over how much better things could have been, or letting myself swell with pride over how things could have been worse. What was, was. And I am who I am. So burn that, throw it away. I don't want it."
With a loud snap, Death closed the book. As I watched, it burst into flames and quickly became ash flowing away in the ethereal wind.
I felt a tension in my soul ease and I asked, "Now what?"
Behind the dark figure a light had begun to shine. "NOW YOU ARE READY FOR WHAT COMES NEXT."
He moved aside. And I walked forward.
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
I was smiling as I read the first hundred pages or so.
Those were the early days of my life. When I was still young and was playing terrible make believe games with my brothers and sisters. The multitude of choices here never amounted to anything significant.
*Decided to agree with sisters; Page 539*
*Decided to agree with brothers; Page 540*
No real differences that amounted to anything bigger.
That was fine. I was actually sort of relieved at that, relieved to know that those choices could never really affect what happened later on.
"You're stalling," He said. The tone wasn't accusatory nor was it complacent. It just sort of was. Pissed me off a bit actually.
"Yeah, I am," I scoffed turning to him. "These were the better days. Can't I enjoy them?"
"You can't leave unless the book is done. Those are the rules," He answered. Again, you couldn't get anything out of his voice. It just sort of was.
"Is there a problem if I don't go?"
"No. The schedule can be changed."
"Than let me read at my own pace, okay?" I called as I turned to the book again. "'Sides, I'm not going to read all of it."
I wasn't lying. One of my many faults. I wasn't going to waste my time reading every single one of the outcomes that could have occurred if I had chosen a different path. Just the cliff-notes of 'em.
I turned back to the index to look up what I believed was the big turning point of my life. When I was finally able to see that the cogs weren't alright.
*The fight at the bar; Page 12,443*
I threw the pages until I found what I was looking for. I was actually surprised when I saw that there weren't many choices for this point in my life.
*Through a knock-out punch; Page 12,511*
*Through a punch; Page 12,444*
Both scenarios had me fighting which was odd. I thought that maybe there would have been a choice that didn't have me fighting. Guess that wasn't in my path.
I turned to the end of the fight, knowing that if this wasn't origin point of what I become, than the end of the fight would have been.
Lo' and Behold I was right.
*Go back to drinking; Page 12,677*
*Scare his mates; Page 12,788*
*Glass his mates; Page 12,877*
*Finish the fight; Page 12, 554*
That was it. The point where my life started. I flipped forward a bunch of pages to see what my choice where at another point. I actually laughed out loud when I saw that there were only three options.
*Join; Page 23,111*
*Ignore; Page 23,311*
*Rat them out; Page 24,555*
"Zeus be damned, I was set up from the start," I said as I continued to read down the path I had taken.
*Burn the church; Page 25,666*
*Burn the Government Building; Page 25,776*
*Execute the Bishop; Page 25,987*
*Let the crowds handle him: Page 26,001*
*Throw the Molotov Cocktail; Page 27,244*
*Use the flamethrower; Page 27,300*
*Hang the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,101* *Behead the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,180* *Fire the first shot; Page 35,188* *Call in for a Volley Fire; Page 35,201* *Blow up the Parliament Building; Page 36,333* *Storm the Parliament Building; Page 36, 389*
I continued to read down the path I had chosen, only occasionally glancing at the other possible outcomes of the action I could've taken. My smile never faded as I continued to read down the list of the methods of torture, the people killed, the lives thrown into chaos, the bodies that drowned in the wake of the choices I made.
When I was satisfied with what I read, I loudly slammed the book. Just I was began to reach into my pocket, he called over, " Ready to go on?"
"Give me a sec," I said, as I pulled out my trusty friend. Without a second thought, I flick it up and let the flames lick at the edges of the book. It was only a couple more second before the book I was holding in my hands had caught fire and was burning with a strangely calming orange flame. After I felt satisfied with the results of my actions, I walked over the him, throwing the book over my shoulder.
"It will not be destroyed."
"Figured as much. The place seemed to Holy and shit," I answered with a smile. "So, did I get to pick the ride or it just an instantaneous thing. I always figure that singing 'Highway to Hell' while headin' to hell would always be funny as hell."
"You don't have any qualms about your actions?" The only time I could tell there was an emotion or a hint of something human.
"No. I was broken from the start. Besides, I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't chosen the revolution, I would have been a lot less justified in my doings. Maybe some good came out of my actions. Maybe some didn't. I don't really care. I know where I was headed the second, I start on my path. I just hope you guys do your worst."
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
First time, and typed on a phone in the middle of the night. Please be gentle...
The book, if you could call it a book, was handed to me with an air of indifference that I did not believe was befitting of my life. A cross between what I understood as a hard drive and a chose your owb adventure, all of the billions upon billions of versions of me were stored upon this one device.
I looked up. The thing that had handed me the device was gone. All that was left was the burning curiousity and the fright that I had wasted my life.
I skimmed through my life. Love, loss, success, failure. From my first kiss to the death of my father, every moment. I relived it all, just as realistic as if it was the present.
I stopped. I had lived my life. Time to see the path of an alternate me.
School gymnasium, 1998. Final year of school. I chose differently. No longer did I ask for Angela's number after the exam. Instead, I sat in anticipation, waiting to feel the difference of my life without her. Without my Angel.
Ready to see if I could bear my life without her. I waited, slumped, head down at my desk. My life, lost, in a moment. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see if I could live without her.
I hear feet approach my desk. Somewhere, outside the gymnasium, she would be saying her goodbyes. Where I was, those 20 years ago. My life had been short, but it had been worth it with her.
"Hi". I looked up. She had waited.
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
I died alone. Missing my children and wife after the car crash 30 years ago. I had had a few drinks that night and though technically sober, I always felt like it was my fault or wondered what I could have done better.. In my grief, i left the home we built together and all friends we had made over the years would write and call occasionally, but would always want to start talking about how I had to buck up or move on.
I had tried to date, even had a few great dogs to keep me company over the years but it was never the same. I decided to get over my fears by helping others. I joined AA, I helped build parks and named the playgrounds after my children. I even named a bench for my wife and ate there every Sunday for nearly 30 years.
When I finally died and went to heaven, I was given a book. It was strange though. I got to read about the lives of all the decisions s that never happened because of that one day. I got to see pictures of my children going to prom. I got to see my wife get old. I couldn’t believe it but I was supposed to have twins! St Peter looked at me and asked me a single question. “Would you do things differently now that you know what you lost”? I heard later other people waited decades before answering, but I knew my answer immediately. “No. I have made mistakes, many of them in my lifetime. However, if this is heaven, my wife and kids are here and already know that I never stopped loving them and went on with my life helping others each day while thinking of them”.
St Peter smiled and said “welcome back to your family”.
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
"I don't want it," I said, pushing the book away. Although standing in a white room, pain free and healthy, despite being 93, I knew what this book meant.
"We give you the option-"
"I understand," I responded crisply, "but angels don't understand some of the pains humans go through."
"Your abusive past-"
"Will remain that way," I tell him, looking down, "I can't relive it, and I can't see what would of happened had I not gone out that night. Or, had I ended it. If I told my parents no that one time. So no, I won't read it."
"Very well," he said, the book disappearing, "follow me please, God is waiting. He knew you were going to turn it down."
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
Heaven's a great library, and everyone has a library card. Even those destined for hell have a library card.
I was alone, sat in a room with a large book. It's cover was dusty, as if waiting for me. I knew as soon as I opened it that time would stand still. God told me that. God told me everything that wasn't in this book. I could have been a painter, a truly great painter like Rembrandt. The book had all these illustrations I drew, every single one. From doodles on napkins to a mural I could have painted in a Roman cathedral. My real life, the one that ended much sooner than this chapter was a good read. I saw all my decisions at once. I always seemed to take the destructive path, the immoral path. I knew what I had achieved in life, but to see it all on paper is something else. A long list of every life I had touched, had maimed, had been in the presence of. The book had no end, there was an infinite number of pages. More of them dedicated to my possibilities of being a world class artist. By comparison, my real life was miniscule and short.
"Do you regret any choices you've made?" asked God.
"No." I lied. "Well, maybe the suicide."
"Of course" said God, "we all regret our death. If we had just one more day, we could rule the world."
"I did rule the world, once." I said.
"Once." God led me up from the chair and down a set of stairs. A long and winding staircase. The heat was unbearable by the time I got to the last step.
"Adolf, my son, this is your room." said God.
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
You set down the book, having read every possible outcome. With tears in your eyes, you look over to your wife, who had died 3 years before. She smiles at you, and hugs you. As you sit there, you know that you made every decision correctly, and wouldn't change a thing.
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
C.S. Lewis was apparently wrong, when he put the words, “'To know what would have happened, child?' said Aslan. 'No. Nobody is ever told that',” into the mouth of his character. Because I had a book in front of me that purported to tell just that. 'Dale Irving, 1927 to 2018, 18 Choices and Their Consequences.'
“18? That's quite good, the average is 10 you know,” The angel who had handed me the book said reading it's title over my shoulder.
“10 what?”
Its eyes were very kind and its voice was calm and soothing, “10 Choices, the average person Chooses 10 times.”
“What?” I asked, and then because I could tell from the look of nearly infinite patients in it's eyes that it was going to explain the exact same thing using slightly different words, I clarified. “The average person makes thousands of choices. Probably thousands a day. You can choose to snooze the alarm or turn it off, then you choose to get up or go back to sleep. You brush your hair first or your teeth. There are several routes you could take to work or you could just drive in a random direction until you don't know anyone and no one there has ever seen you before.”
“Those are just reaction,” the angel said. “Chemicals in your brain combine, it sets off cascades through your nerves, and eventually your bodies move. You don't Choose.”
It was an argument I'd heard before, of course. Everyone has. We're just meat machines. Wires and gears. I started to make the argument that had worked in life, “Quantum...”
The angel cut me off it's voice filled with a well of kindness deeper than the sea. “Certain quantum scale reactions aree stochastic in character. But a coin flip isn't a Choice either.”
I looked down at the book. “But they do exist?”
“You have Free Will.” For the barest instant, wrapped around the word 'you' I got the impression of sadness in the angelic voice. I wonder if perhaps there wasn't a book out there with it's name on it. “It's HIS proudest accomplishment. It pulls you up off the plane of reality and in that instant You Choose free of all else.”
I was still looking at the book. Perhaps 18 wasn't so bad a number after all. I had lived an extraordinary life. I had invented incredible things, made a vast fortune, then pumped it back into making the world a better place. “So now I read this and learn what they were? What would have happened if I'd Chosen something else?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
The angel smiled, a warm golden expression, “And then you learn more about Choosing and how to do it more often.”
|
You open the first page.
> 1.
> You are born.
As a newborn baby, you don't have a lot of choices. And those choices made no more sense to you that they would a newborn babe. You couldn't help peaking ahead.
> 2.
> You close your eyes. Everything you could ever hope to dream of has been achieved, and more. You have no regrets. As you drift off to sleep, you see a light and a heavenly being comes down to take you to a reward that not even one as accomplished as you could possibly deserve. This is a new beginning, but for this life this is ....
> the end.
Now THAT is more like it. You flip ahead. You see numerous possible endings but all of them pale in comparison. You keep turning the pages but the more you read the longer the book seems to be. You never find a page that will lead you to the promised ultimate ending. Time passes.
You feel like you have taken too long.
You do see a light, and a strange shape in the middle. A voice you do not yet understand speaks out "it's OK, we won't need the theater, it's almost out".
You wail.
You are placed on a familiar yet unfamiliar place. To crawl ahead, go to 3. To catch your breath, go to 7.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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The book about my life will indeed be full of adventures with all the right and wrong decisions I have ever made. There will be part of the book that will mention my decision to marry a guy who would eventually abandon me and my son but it will also mention that out of that wrong decision, the outcome was the best thing that ever happened to me, my son.
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"Die."
That is what was written on the cover of my book.
"Die."
No, I tell a lie.
I wasn't holding a book in my hands, but a simple cardboard sheet that bore only that simple word.
"Die."
I remember that much, though I didn't know the word at the time.
I felt my body torn apart.
I felt pain.
I screamed howls that no-one ever heard.
All around me, everyone else, it seemed, had books of adventure. Mystery, options.
I ... I had a mother who did not want me.
I had no choices in my life.
No pages.
A life of no memories.
"Die."
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I held the book,
Felt its weight.
Hefted it,
Like a lodestone on my future.
I looked near the beginning,
Where the jumps were large,
The changes so drastic,
The choices heavy.
I turned to the back,
It read like a novel,
Each decision short,
Small,
Meaningless.
Ah, the old maxim was true,
With age all choices grow small,
And a man can choose,
Only what he must.
I closed the book.
It was taken from me,
Freed from the questions,
Uncaring of the answers,
I continued to walk.
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You open to a random page, read the words "you are now a handsome billionaire, loved by all, especially your harem of gorgeous women." and frantically try to reverse engineer what series of events got you to this outcome. You realize you deviated from the path due to a seemingly inconsequential choice you made because it was funny, and are now miserable for eternity.
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I closed the book. “What is this?” I asked.
“I thought it pretty self explanatory. Its a book about the decisions you made and what the outcomes could’ve been” said the angel.
“Well yes, but why? Why would I want to read about the possible outcomes now that I am deceased?”
The angle sighed, as if they were annoyed by my inquiry. “Some people like to see where they could have been and if a different decision was made, how their life could have been.”
I paused for a moment, still holding the book in my hand. The leather quality was nice. I quickly paged through it, noting that varying in age of the ink as someone had written each section after each possible decision. The ink in the back pages still seemingly fresh and not aged. If the angels were writing these by hand, I felt bad for those that had to write this stuff out for people with severe ADD.
My questions continued. “But why? The decisions I made through my life were not ones I can or could change. Why would I want to see what I *could* have done when I am here now. Isn’t that what matters?”
The angel changed from annoyed to curious. “Are you saying you wouldn’t change any of the decisions you made? Aren’t you curious about that the one girl you never asked out, or the day you took that phone call?”
Of course I was always curious. Those simply decisions would crop up in dreams or when I saw someone more successful than I. The decisions I made and how maybe I could have done better.
“Well, sure. But the outcome could only be relief if I had done worse or heartache if I could had done better. Certainly I had regrets about things I didn’t get to do or opportunities I missed out on but they are only mild regrets. The things I did do gave me meaning and fulfillment in their own way.”
The angels curiosity continued. “You say had… meaning you don’t have them anymore?”
“Why would I have them now? If I am deceased, there is nothing from my living life that came with me other than my memories so why would that matter here? I tried to live a positive life and do the right things when possible. Why would I worry about that life now?”
The look on the angles face shifted to a mild sense of superiority. “What if I told you it *did* matter?”
“Well then we are back to my original point: the decisions have been made and I can’t go back to change them. If I am going to be punished for any one of the decisions, why would I want to dwell on them? If I were to be rewarded, then so be it.”
The angel was quiet for some time as if they were conferring with someone telepathically or simply being decisive about lunch, it was unclear.
I pressed on. “So if I am choosing not to read this, what’s next?”
The angel disregarded my question. “What if I told you this is your only chance to read this? You will never get a chance to learn this information again.”
I chuckled in anxious amusement. “Why are *you* so adamant that I read it? Is there something you aren’t telling me about why I should?”
“None. My purpose is provide you with the book. Just like your mortal life, the decision is your own. I will say however that your decision not read it follows quite clearly with your choices for meaning rather than self indulgence.”
I paused at the angels words. Was this a compliment or an insult? I handed the book back to them.
The angel nodded and took the book from my hands. They continued. “Even those that find that kind of wisdom later in life still tend to want to read it. Usually out of indulgence. The wisest however recognize that reading the decisions themselves are more knowledge despite the fact there is nothing that can be done.”
The angel gently held the book up towards me as one last gesture of opportunity. I smiled and pushed their hand away. “It sounds like I still have quite a bit to learn then.”
“Very well” said the angel. “I must ask though, aren’t you curious about the decision that ultimately led you here?”
I let out a huge laugh as if someone had told funniest joke in the world. “Nope. I knew that decision would come back to get me one day.”
The angle smirked, trying to contain their own sense of laughter. “Very well. Follow me.”
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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The tome lay heavy in my hand. Immaculate penmanship neatly filled every page even as the number of pages stretched and warped to fit perhaps an infinite number within the leather-clad bindings.
Death, for who else could it have been, stood silently within the hooded robe concealing his face.
"This," I started to say, wanting to make sure I understood what I had been given. "This contains the stories of all the possible decisions I could have made, all my choices and their consequences... from birth all the way to my inevitable deaths?"
"YES."
I stared at the book. My whole life, no, all my possible lives. Every selfless and selfish decision, all the heroic and villanous moments, with the opposite paths laid out to show what could have been.
What never had been.
I closed the book, feeling an anger rising from within. "Take it."
"WHAT?"
"Take it," I said again, holding the book out to his skeletal fingers. "Burn it."
Empty sockets stared at me as the tome, page still open to perfect parchment, was lifted from my hands. Death paused then asked, "WHY?"
I glared back at the skull. "I lived my life. I made my choices. Good and bad, they were mine. The consequences were mine and I'll own those forever. Being brave enough to believe in the fantasy of love and then working hard to make it a reality? Mine. Choosing to be a father to a child who's sad fate seemed already written and holding her close as she died? Mine. Dealing with betrayals and pain? Mine. Moments of weakness, cowardice, and of laziness? Mine. What may have been is meaningless."
With a growl I pointed at the book. "That isn't real. That isn't true. My choices made me who I am. All the way to when you fished me out of the wreckage my body had become. There's no point in either wallowing in over how much better things could have been, or letting myself swell with pride over how things could have been worse. What was, was. And I am who I am. So burn that, throw it away. I don't want it."
With a loud snap, Death closed the book. As I watched, it burst into flames and quickly became ash flowing away in the ethereal wind.
I felt a tension in my soul ease and I asked, "Now what?"
Behind the dark figure a light had begun to shine. "NOW YOU ARE READY FOR WHAT COMES NEXT."
He moved aside. And I walked forward.
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I was smiling as I read the first hundred pages or so.
Those were the early days of my life. When I was still young and was playing terrible make believe games with my brothers and sisters. The multitude of choices here never amounted to anything significant.
*Decided to agree with sisters; Page 539*
*Decided to agree with brothers; Page 540*
No real differences that amounted to anything bigger.
That was fine. I was actually sort of relieved at that, relieved to know that those choices could never really affect what happened later on.
"You're stalling," He said. The tone wasn't accusatory nor was it complacent. It just sort of was. Pissed me off a bit actually.
"Yeah, I am," I scoffed turning to him. "These were the better days. Can't I enjoy them?"
"You can't leave unless the book is done. Those are the rules," He answered. Again, you couldn't get anything out of his voice. It just sort of was.
"Is there a problem if I don't go?"
"No. The schedule can be changed."
"Than let me read at my own pace, okay?" I called as I turned to the book again. "'Sides, I'm not going to read all of it."
I wasn't lying. One of my many faults. I wasn't going to waste my time reading every single one of the outcomes that could have occurred if I had chosen a different path. Just the cliff-notes of 'em.
I turned back to the index to look up what I believed was the big turning point of my life. When I was finally able to see that the cogs weren't alright.
*The fight at the bar; Page 12,443*
I threw the pages until I found what I was looking for. I was actually surprised when I saw that there weren't many choices for this point in my life.
*Through a knock-out punch; Page 12,511*
*Through a punch; Page 12,444*
Both scenarios had me fighting which was odd. I thought that maybe there would have been a choice that didn't have me fighting. Guess that wasn't in my path.
I turned to the end of the fight, knowing that if this wasn't origin point of what I become, than the end of the fight would have been.
Lo' and Behold I was right.
*Go back to drinking; Page 12,677*
*Scare his mates; Page 12,788*
*Glass his mates; Page 12,877*
*Finish the fight; Page 12, 554*
That was it. The point where my life started. I flipped forward a bunch of pages to see what my choice where at another point. I actually laughed out loud when I saw that there were only three options.
*Join; Page 23,111*
*Ignore; Page 23,311*
*Rat them out; Page 24,555*
"Zeus be damned, I was set up from the start," I said as I continued to read down the path I had taken.
*Burn the church; Page 25,666*
*Burn the Government Building; Page 25,776*
*Execute the Bishop; Page 25,987*
*Let the crowds handle him: Page 26,001*
*Throw the Molotov Cocktail; Page 27,244*
*Use the flamethrower; Page 27,300*
*Hang the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,101* *Behead the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,180* *Fire the first shot; Page 35,188* *Call in for a Volley Fire; Page 35,201* *Blow up the Parliament Building; Page 36,333* *Storm the Parliament Building; Page 36, 389*
I continued to read down the path I had chosen, only occasionally glancing at the other possible outcomes of the action I could've taken. My smile never faded as I continued to read down the list of the methods of torture, the people killed, the lives thrown into chaos, the bodies that drowned in the wake of the choices I made.
When I was satisfied with what I read, I loudly slammed the book. Just I was began to reach into my pocket, he called over, " Ready to go on?"
"Give me a sec," I said, as I pulled out my trusty friend. Without a second thought, I flick it up and let the flames lick at the edges of the book. It was only a couple more second before the book I was holding in my hands had caught fire and was burning with a strangely calming orange flame. After I felt satisfied with the results of my actions, I walked over the him, throwing the book over my shoulder.
"It will not be destroyed."
"Figured as much. The place seemed to Holy and shit," I answered with a smile. "So, did I get to pick the ride or it just an instantaneous thing. I always figure that singing 'Highway to Hell' while headin' to hell would always be funny as hell."
"You don't have any qualms about your actions?" The only time I could tell there was an emotion or a hint of something human.
"No. I was broken from the start. Besides, I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't chosen the revolution, I would have been a lot less justified in my doings. Maybe some good came out of my actions. Maybe some didn't. I don't really care. I know where I was headed the second, I start on my path. I just hope you guys do your worst."
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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First time, and typed on a phone in the middle of the night. Please be gentle...
The book, if you could call it a book, was handed to me with an air of indifference that I did not believe was befitting of my life. A cross between what I understood as a hard drive and a chose your owb adventure, all of the billions upon billions of versions of me were stored upon this one device.
I looked up. The thing that had handed me the device was gone. All that was left was the burning curiousity and the fright that I had wasted my life.
I skimmed through my life. Love, loss, success, failure. From my first kiss to the death of my father, every moment. I relived it all, just as realistic as if it was the present.
I stopped. I had lived my life. Time to see the path of an alternate me.
School gymnasium, 1998. Final year of school. I chose differently. No longer did I ask for Angela's number after the exam. Instead, I sat in anticipation, waiting to feel the difference of my life without her. Without my Angel.
Ready to see if I could bear my life without her. I waited, slumped, head down at my desk. My life, lost, in a moment. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see if I could live without her.
I hear feet approach my desk. Somewhere, outside the gymnasium, she would be saying her goodbyes. Where I was, those 20 years ago. My life had been short, but it had been worth it with her.
"Hi". I looked up. She had waited.
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I died alone. Missing my children and wife after the car crash 30 years ago. I had had a few drinks that night and though technically sober, I always felt like it was my fault or wondered what I could have done better.. In my grief, i left the home we built together and all friends we had made over the years would write and call occasionally, but would always want to start talking about how I had to buck up or move on.
I had tried to date, even had a few great dogs to keep me company over the years but it was never the same. I decided to get over my fears by helping others. I joined AA, I helped build parks and named the playgrounds after my children. I even named a bench for my wife and ate there every Sunday for nearly 30 years.
When I finally died and went to heaven, I was given a book. It was strange though. I got to read about the lives of all the decisions s that never happened because of that one day. I got to see pictures of my children going to prom. I got to see my wife get old. I couldn’t believe it but I was supposed to have twins! St Peter looked at me and asked me a single question. “Would you do things differently now that you know what you lost”? I heard later other people waited decades before answering, but I knew my answer immediately. “No. I have made mistakes, many of them in my lifetime. However, if this is heaven, my wife and kids are here and already know that I never stopped loving them and went on with my life helping others each day while thinking of them”.
St Peter smiled and said “welcome back to your family”.
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"I don't want it," I said, pushing the book away. Although standing in a white room, pain free and healthy, despite being 93, I knew what this book meant.
"We give you the option-"
"I understand," I responded crisply, "but angels don't understand some of the pains humans go through."
"Your abusive past-"
"Will remain that way," I tell him, looking down, "I can't relive it, and I can't see what would of happened had I not gone out that night. Or, had I ended it. If I told my parents no that one time. So no, I won't read it."
"Very well," he said, the book disappearing, "follow me please, God is waiting. He knew you were going to turn it down."
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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Heaven's a great library, and everyone has a library card. Even those destined for hell have a library card.
I was alone, sat in a room with a large book. It's cover was dusty, as if waiting for me. I knew as soon as I opened it that time would stand still. God told me that. God told me everything that wasn't in this book. I could have been a painter, a truly great painter like Rembrandt. The book had all these illustrations I drew, every single one. From doodles on napkins to a mural I could have painted in a Roman cathedral. My real life, the one that ended much sooner than this chapter was a good read. I saw all my decisions at once. I always seemed to take the destructive path, the immoral path. I knew what I had achieved in life, but to see it all on paper is something else. A long list of every life I had touched, had maimed, had been in the presence of. The book had no end, there was an infinite number of pages. More of them dedicated to my possibilities of being a world class artist. By comparison, my real life was miniscule and short.
"Do you regret any choices you've made?" asked God.
"No." I lied. "Well, maybe the suicide."
"Of course" said God, "we all regret our death. If we had just one more day, we could rule the world."
"I did rule the world, once." I said.
"Once." God led me up from the chair and down a set of stairs. A long and winding staircase. The heat was unbearable by the time I got to the last step.
"Adolf, my son, this is your room." said God.
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You set down the book, having read every possible outcome. With tears in your eyes, you look over to your wife, who had died 3 years before. She smiles at you, and hugs you. As you sit there, you know that you made every decision correctly, and wouldn't change a thing.
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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C.S. Lewis was apparently wrong, when he put the words, “'To know what would have happened, child?' said Aslan. 'No. Nobody is ever told that',” into the mouth of his character. Because I had a book in front of me that purported to tell just that. 'Dale Irving, 1927 to 2018, 18 Choices and Their Consequences.'
“18? That's quite good, the average is 10 you know,” The angel who had handed me the book said reading it's title over my shoulder.
“10 what?”
Its eyes were very kind and its voice was calm and soothing, “10 Choices, the average person Chooses 10 times.”
“What?” I asked, and then because I could tell from the look of nearly infinite patients in it's eyes that it was going to explain the exact same thing using slightly different words, I clarified. “The average person makes thousands of choices. Probably thousands a day. You can choose to snooze the alarm or turn it off, then you choose to get up or go back to sleep. You brush your hair first or your teeth. There are several routes you could take to work or you could just drive in a random direction until you don't know anyone and no one there has ever seen you before.”
“Those are just reaction,” the angel said. “Chemicals in your brain combine, it sets off cascades through your nerves, and eventually your bodies move. You don't Choose.”
It was an argument I'd heard before, of course. Everyone has. We're just meat machines. Wires and gears. I started to make the argument that had worked in life, “Quantum...”
The angel cut me off it's voice filled with a well of kindness deeper than the sea. “Certain quantum scale reactions aree stochastic in character. But a coin flip isn't a Choice either.”
I looked down at the book. “But they do exist?”
“You have Free Will.” For the barest instant, wrapped around the word 'you' I got the impression of sadness in the angelic voice. I wonder if perhaps there wasn't a book out there with it's name on it. “It's HIS proudest accomplishment. It pulls you up off the plane of reality and in that instant You Choose free of all else.”
I was still looking at the book. Perhaps 18 wasn't so bad a number after all. I had lived an extraordinary life. I had invented incredible things, made a vast fortune, then pumped it back into making the world a better place. “So now I read this and learn what they were? What would have happened if I'd Chosen something else?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
The angel smiled, a warm golden expression, “And then you learn more about Choosing and how to do it more often.”
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...I did not have the courage to turn pages, no it was not about courage. I was just being cautious. I knew nothing about that place and all of a sudden I was handed a book without any instructions, voices. Was this a trap or a kind of a final test? Or a second chance? Or will I be in a loop of this - whatever it is. I thought for a while. What if I change the decision I made in the past? There will be more challenges if I decide to make any changes from my past. Whatever happened, has happened. I closed the book and put it in the ground. I already made my decisions to end up here. I had a happy life.
Then I remembered the ones that I loved the most. No one here, nothing but a blank. I could not move. I only saw my body.
Suddenly I came up with an idea. An idea that needs more courage than to turn the pages. Yes I felt I could do it. I would live the same life once again. There were no rules instructed about using the book but I felt like my actions ends the way I think. I turned the first page. There it is, "my first decision". I chose what I chose in the past.
Nothing happened! Nothing at all. I felt like, I spent weeks in this place where there is no felling of a time. I had no choice but to start reading the book, choosing and see the outcomes.
So I did...As soon as I finished reading chains of decisions, I saw another copy of myself in the end of the book...
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"Die."
That is what was written on the cover of my book.
"Die."
No, I tell a lie.
I wasn't holding a book in my hands, but a simple cardboard sheet that bore only that simple word.
"Die."
I remember that much, though I didn't know the word at the time.
I felt my body torn apart.
I felt pain.
I screamed howls that no-one ever heard.
All around me, everyone else, it seemed, had books of adventure. Mystery, options.
I ... I had a mother who did not want me.
I had no choices in my life.
No pages.
A life of no memories.
"Die."
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I held the book,
Felt its weight.
Hefted it,
Like a lodestone on my future.
I looked near the beginning,
Where the jumps were large,
The changes so drastic,
The choices heavy.
I turned to the back,
It read like a novel,
Each decision short,
Small,
Meaningless.
Ah, the old maxim was true,
With age all choices grow small,
And a man can choose,
Only what he must.
I closed the book.
It was taken from me,
Freed from the questions,
Uncaring of the answers,
I continued to walk.
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You open to a random page, read the words "you are now a handsome billionaire, loved by all, especially your harem of gorgeous women." and frantically try to reverse engineer what series of events got you to this outcome. You realize you deviated from the path due to a seemingly inconsequential choice you made because it was funny, and are now miserable for eternity.
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I closed the book. “What is this?” I asked.
“I thought it pretty self explanatory. Its a book about the decisions you made and what the outcomes could’ve been” said the angel.
“Well yes, but why? Why would I want to read about the possible outcomes now that I am deceased?”
The angle sighed, as if they were annoyed by my inquiry. “Some people like to see where they could have been and if a different decision was made, how their life could have been.”
I paused for a moment, still holding the book in my hand. The leather quality was nice. I quickly paged through it, noting that varying in age of the ink as someone had written each section after each possible decision. The ink in the back pages still seemingly fresh and not aged. If the angels were writing these by hand, I felt bad for those that had to write this stuff out for people with severe ADD.
My questions continued. “But why? The decisions I made through my life were not ones I can or could change. Why would I want to see what I *could* have done when I am here now. Isn’t that what matters?”
The angel changed from annoyed to curious. “Are you saying you wouldn’t change any of the decisions you made? Aren’t you curious about that the one girl you never asked out, or the day you took that phone call?”
Of course I was always curious. Those simply decisions would crop up in dreams or when I saw someone more successful than I. The decisions I made and how maybe I could have done better.
“Well, sure. But the outcome could only be relief if I had done worse or heartache if I could had done better. Certainly I had regrets about things I didn’t get to do or opportunities I missed out on but they are only mild regrets. The things I did do gave me meaning and fulfillment in their own way.”
The angels curiosity continued. “You say had… meaning you don’t have them anymore?”
“Why would I have them now? If I am deceased, there is nothing from my living life that came with me other than my memories so why would that matter here? I tried to live a positive life and do the right things when possible. Why would I worry about that life now?”
The look on the angles face shifted to a mild sense of superiority. “What if I told you it *did* matter?”
“Well then we are back to my original point: the decisions have been made and I can’t go back to change them. If I am going to be punished for any one of the decisions, why would I want to dwell on them? If I were to be rewarded, then so be it.”
The angel was quiet for some time as if they were conferring with someone telepathically or simply being decisive about lunch, it was unclear.
I pressed on. “So if I am choosing not to read this, what’s next?”
The angel disregarded my question. “What if I told you this is your only chance to read this? You will never get a chance to learn this information again.”
I chuckled in anxious amusement. “Why are *you* so adamant that I read it? Is there something you aren’t telling me about why I should?”
“None. My purpose is provide you with the book. Just like your mortal life, the decision is your own. I will say however that your decision not read it follows quite clearly with your choices for meaning rather than self indulgence.”
I paused at the angels words. Was this a compliment or an insult? I handed the book back to them.
The angel nodded and took the book from my hands. They continued. “Even those that find that kind of wisdom later in life still tend to want to read it. Usually out of indulgence. The wisest however recognize that reading the decisions themselves are more knowledge despite the fact there is nothing that can be done.”
The angel gently held the book up towards me as one last gesture of opportunity. I smiled and pushed their hand away. “It sounds like I still have quite a bit to learn then.”
“Very well” said the angel. “I must ask though, aren’t you curious about the decision that ultimately led you here?”
I let out a huge laugh as if someone had told funniest joke in the world. “Nope. I knew that decision would come back to get me one day.”
The angle smirked, trying to contain their own sense of laughter. “Very well. Follow me.”
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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The tome lay heavy in my hand. Immaculate penmanship neatly filled every page even as the number of pages stretched and warped to fit perhaps an infinite number within the leather-clad bindings.
Death, for who else could it have been, stood silently within the hooded robe concealing his face.
"This," I started to say, wanting to make sure I understood what I had been given. "This contains the stories of all the possible decisions I could have made, all my choices and their consequences... from birth all the way to my inevitable deaths?"
"YES."
I stared at the book. My whole life, no, all my possible lives. Every selfless and selfish decision, all the heroic and villanous moments, with the opposite paths laid out to show what could have been.
What never had been.
I closed the book, feeling an anger rising from within. "Take it."
"WHAT?"
"Take it," I said again, holding the book out to his skeletal fingers. "Burn it."
Empty sockets stared at me as the tome, page still open to perfect parchment, was lifted from my hands. Death paused then asked, "WHY?"
I glared back at the skull. "I lived my life. I made my choices. Good and bad, they were mine. The consequences were mine and I'll own those forever. Being brave enough to believe in the fantasy of love and then working hard to make it a reality? Mine. Choosing to be a father to a child who's sad fate seemed already written and holding her close as she died? Mine. Dealing with betrayals and pain? Mine. Moments of weakness, cowardice, and of laziness? Mine. What may have been is meaningless."
With a growl I pointed at the book. "That isn't real. That isn't true. My choices made me who I am. All the way to when you fished me out of the wreckage my body had become. There's no point in either wallowing in over how much better things could have been, or letting myself swell with pride over how things could have been worse. What was, was. And I am who I am. So burn that, throw it away. I don't want it."
With a loud snap, Death closed the book. As I watched, it burst into flames and quickly became ash flowing away in the ethereal wind.
I felt a tension in my soul ease and I asked, "Now what?"
Behind the dark figure a light had begun to shine. "NOW YOU ARE READY FOR WHAT COMES NEXT."
He moved aside. And I walked forward.
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I was smiling as I read the first hundred pages or so.
Those were the early days of my life. When I was still young and was playing terrible make believe games with my brothers and sisters. The multitude of choices here never amounted to anything significant.
*Decided to agree with sisters; Page 539*
*Decided to agree with brothers; Page 540*
No real differences that amounted to anything bigger.
That was fine. I was actually sort of relieved at that, relieved to know that those choices could never really affect what happened later on.
"You're stalling," He said. The tone wasn't accusatory nor was it complacent. It just sort of was. Pissed me off a bit actually.
"Yeah, I am," I scoffed turning to him. "These were the better days. Can't I enjoy them?"
"You can't leave unless the book is done. Those are the rules," He answered. Again, you couldn't get anything out of his voice. It just sort of was.
"Is there a problem if I don't go?"
"No. The schedule can be changed."
"Than let me read at my own pace, okay?" I called as I turned to the book again. "'Sides, I'm not going to read all of it."
I wasn't lying. One of my many faults. I wasn't going to waste my time reading every single one of the outcomes that could have occurred if I had chosen a different path. Just the cliff-notes of 'em.
I turned back to the index to look up what I believed was the big turning point of my life. When I was finally able to see that the cogs weren't alright.
*The fight at the bar; Page 12,443*
I threw the pages until I found what I was looking for. I was actually surprised when I saw that there weren't many choices for this point in my life.
*Through a knock-out punch; Page 12,511*
*Through a punch; Page 12,444*
Both scenarios had me fighting which was odd. I thought that maybe there would have been a choice that didn't have me fighting. Guess that wasn't in my path.
I turned to the end of the fight, knowing that if this wasn't origin point of what I become, than the end of the fight would have been.
Lo' and Behold I was right.
*Go back to drinking; Page 12,677*
*Scare his mates; Page 12,788*
*Glass his mates; Page 12,877*
*Finish the fight; Page 12, 554*
That was it. The point where my life started. I flipped forward a bunch of pages to see what my choice where at another point. I actually laughed out loud when I saw that there were only three options.
*Join; Page 23,111*
*Ignore; Page 23,311*
*Rat them out; Page 24,555*
"Zeus be damned, I was set up from the start," I said as I continued to read down the path I had taken.
*Burn the church; Page 25,666*
*Burn the Government Building; Page 25,776*
*Execute the Bishop; Page 25,987*
*Let the crowds handle him: Page 26,001*
*Throw the Molotov Cocktail; Page 27,244*
*Use the flamethrower; Page 27,300*
*Hang the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,101* *Behead the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,180* *Fire the first shot; Page 35,188* *Call in for a Volley Fire; Page 35,201* *Blow up the Parliament Building; Page 36,333* *Storm the Parliament Building; Page 36, 389*
I continued to read down the path I had chosen, only occasionally glancing at the other possible outcomes of the action I could've taken. My smile never faded as I continued to read down the list of the methods of torture, the people killed, the lives thrown into chaos, the bodies that drowned in the wake of the choices I made.
When I was satisfied with what I read, I loudly slammed the book. Just I was began to reach into my pocket, he called over, " Ready to go on?"
"Give me a sec," I said, as I pulled out my trusty friend. Without a second thought, I flick it up and let the flames lick at the edges of the book. It was only a couple more second before the book I was holding in my hands had caught fire and was burning with a strangely calming orange flame. After I felt satisfied with the results of my actions, I walked over the him, throwing the book over my shoulder.
"It will not be destroyed."
"Figured as much. The place seemed to Holy and shit," I answered with a smile. "So, did I get to pick the ride or it just an instantaneous thing. I always figure that singing 'Highway to Hell' while headin' to hell would always be funny as hell."
"You don't have any qualms about your actions?" The only time I could tell there was an emotion or a hint of something human.
"No. I was broken from the start. Besides, I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't chosen the revolution, I would have been a lot less justified in my doings. Maybe some good came out of my actions. Maybe some didn't. I don't really care. I know where I was headed the second, I start on my path. I just hope you guys do your worst."
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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First time, and typed on a phone in the middle of the night. Please be gentle...
The book, if you could call it a book, was handed to me with an air of indifference that I did not believe was befitting of my life. A cross between what I understood as a hard drive and a chose your owb adventure, all of the billions upon billions of versions of me were stored upon this one device.
I looked up. The thing that had handed me the device was gone. All that was left was the burning curiousity and the fright that I had wasted my life.
I skimmed through my life. Love, loss, success, failure. From my first kiss to the death of my father, every moment. I relived it all, just as realistic as if it was the present.
I stopped. I had lived my life. Time to see the path of an alternate me.
School gymnasium, 1998. Final year of school. I chose differently. No longer did I ask for Angela's number after the exam. Instead, I sat in anticipation, waiting to feel the difference of my life without her. Without my Angel.
Ready to see if I could bear my life without her. I waited, slumped, head down at my desk. My life, lost, in a moment. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see if I could live without her.
I hear feet approach my desk. Somewhere, outside the gymnasium, she would be saying her goodbyes. Where I was, those 20 years ago. My life had been short, but it had been worth it with her.
"Hi". I looked up. She had waited.
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I died alone. Missing my children and wife after the car crash 30 years ago. I had had a few drinks that night and though technically sober, I always felt like it was my fault or wondered what I could have done better.. In my grief, i left the home we built together and all friends we had made over the years would write and call occasionally, but would always want to start talking about how I had to buck up or move on.
I had tried to date, even had a few great dogs to keep me company over the years but it was never the same. I decided to get over my fears by helping others. I joined AA, I helped build parks and named the playgrounds after my children. I even named a bench for my wife and ate there every Sunday for nearly 30 years.
When I finally died and went to heaven, I was given a book. It was strange though. I got to read about the lives of all the decisions s that never happened because of that one day. I got to see pictures of my children going to prom. I got to see my wife get old. I couldn’t believe it but I was supposed to have twins! St Peter looked at me and asked me a single question. “Would you do things differently now that you know what you lost”? I heard later other people waited decades before answering, but I knew my answer immediately. “No. I have made mistakes, many of them in my lifetime. However, if this is heaven, my wife and kids are here and already know that I never stopped loving them and went on with my life helping others each day while thinking of them”.
St Peter smiled and said “welcome back to your family”.
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"I don't want it," I said, pushing the book away. Although standing in a white room, pain free and healthy, despite being 93, I knew what this book meant.
"We give you the option-"
"I understand," I responded crisply, "but angels don't understand some of the pains humans go through."
"Your abusive past-"
"Will remain that way," I tell him, looking down, "I can't relive it, and I can't see what would of happened had I not gone out that night. Or, had I ended it. If I told my parents no that one time. So no, I won't read it."
"Very well," he said, the book disappearing, "follow me please, God is waiting. He knew you were going to turn it down."
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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Heaven's a great library, and everyone has a library card. Even those destined for hell have a library card.
I was alone, sat in a room with a large book. It's cover was dusty, as if waiting for me. I knew as soon as I opened it that time would stand still. God told me that. God told me everything that wasn't in this book. I could have been a painter, a truly great painter like Rembrandt. The book had all these illustrations I drew, every single one. From doodles on napkins to a mural I could have painted in a Roman cathedral. My real life, the one that ended much sooner than this chapter was a good read. I saw all my decisions at once. I always seemed to take the destructive path, the immoral path. I knew what I had achieved in life, but to see it all on paper is something else. A long list of every life I had touched, had maimed, had been in the presence of. The book had no end, there was an infinite number of pages. More of them dedicated to my possibilities of being a world class artist. By comparison, my real life was miniscule and short.
"Do you regret any choices you've made?" asked God.
"No." I lied. "Well, maybe the suicide."
"Of course" said God, "we all regret our death. If we had just one more day, we could rule the world."
"I did rule the world, once." I said.
"Once." God led me up from the chair and down a set of stairs. A long and winding staircase. The heat was unbearable by the time I got to the last step.
"Adolf, my son, this is your room." said God.
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You set down the book, having read every possible outcome. With tears in your eyes, you look over to your wife, who had died 3 years before. She smiles at you, and hugs you. As you sit there, you know that you made every decision correctly, and wouldn't change a thing.
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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C.S. Lewis was apparently wrong, when he put the words, “'To know what would have happened, child?' said Aslan. 'No. Nobody is ever told that',” into the mouth of his character. Because I had a book in front of me that purported to tell just that. 'Dale Irving, 1927 to 2018, 18 Choices and Their Consequences.'
“18? That's quite good, the average is 10 you know,” The angel who had handed me the book said reading it's title over my shoulder.
“10 what?”
Its eyes were very kind and its voice was calm and soothing, “10 Choices, the average person Chooses 10 times.”
“What?” I asked, and then because I could tell from the look of nearly infinite patients in it's eyes that it was going to explain the exact same thing using slightly different words, I clarified. “The average person makes thousands of choices. Probably thousands a day. You can choose to snooze the alarm or turn it off, then you choose to get up or go back to sleep. You brush your hair first or your teeth. There are several routes you could take to work or you could just drive in a random direction until you don't know anyone and no one there has ever seen you before.”
“Those are just reaction,” the angel said. “Chemicals in your brain combine, it sets off cascades through your nerves, and eventually your bodies move. You don't Choose.”
It was an argument I'd heard before, of course. Everyone has. We're just meat machines. Wires and gears. I started to make the argument that had worked in life, “Quantum...”
The angel cut me off it's voice filled with a well of kindness deeper than the sea. “Certain quantum scale reactions aree stochastic in character. But a coin flip isn't a Choice either.”
I looked down at the book. “But they do exist?”
“You have Free Will.” For the barest instant, wrapped around the word 'you' I got the impression of sadness in the angelic voice. I wonder if perhaps there wasn't a book out there with it's name on it. “It's HIS proudest accomplishment. It pulls you up off the plane of reality and in that instant You Choose free of all else.”
I was still looking at the book. Perhaps 18 wasn't so bad a number after all. I had lived an extraordinary life. I had invented incredible things, made a vast fortune, then pumped it back into making the world a better place. “So now I read this and learn what they were? What would have happened if I'd Chosen something else?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
The angel smiled, a warm golden expression, “And then you learn more about Choosing and how to do it more often.”
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You see every detail of your life being displayed as nothing but meaningless data. This enrages you. Each and every decision that you took some with serious consideration and others in haste are lying before you lifeless on paper. You can see every possible outcome of the decisions you should have taken but didn't. You see the outcome of eating right starting at age 7, 10, 20... You see what would have happened if instead of doing a Masters degree you would have continued in your old job complaining for the rest of your life. You see the outcome of marrying the person "that got away". You see the possibility of not having your first kiss till you're 21 and also what if you experienced all that and more at the age of 15 itself. You see how different your life would have been had you taken the risk and quit your job. You see the difference in your children's upbringing if you had taken that offer and moved to a different country. You see every possible different outcome you could have had as you flip through the pages towards the end.
As you reach the end, you see that all the possible outcomes lead to this very moment in time. Here you are given the option to go back to your life as a baby with all this knowledge and live it out differently. Only one condition entailed: You cannot tell about this to anyone even if you tried.
If you choose not to go down that road, you become one of the souls there guiding the newly dead people through this same experience.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You open to a random page, read the words "you are now a handsome billionaire, loved by all, especially your harem of gorgeous women." and frantically try to reverse engineer what series of events got you to this outcome. You realize you deviated from the path due to a seemingly inconsequential choice you made because it was funny, and are now miserable for eternity.
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In 1977 a couple of guys from my church in Texas were driving to Missouri to do some construction work on a religious retreat center. I begged them to let me come along and they didn't want to but I think our pastor or their wives convinced them because they gave in. While I was there a young woman came to visit from Minnesota. She'd known one of the couples who were at the center when she was in Japan. The whole week I was building and she was helping out at the home of this couple. But on the second to last day the couple she was staying with hosted a dinner for the 5 of us who came to do construction work. Afterwards she and I did the dishes and in those 2 hours we fell in love. I married her about 1 year later and we enjoyed 29 years of joy till I lost her to breast cancer. She was the love of my life, the apple of my eye. But when I contemplate all the elements of pure chance that went into that meeting it boggles my mind. What if those couples had stuck with no? What if she'd visited the week before or after? What if the couple hadn't hosted that dinner? What if she or I hadn't decided to help with the dishes? It completely blows my mind.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I closed the book. “What is this?” I asked.
“I thought it pretty self explanatory. Its a book about the decisions you made and what the outcomes could’ve been” said the angel.
“Well yes, but why? Why would I want to read about the possible outcomes now that I am deceased?”
The angle sighed, as if they were annoyed by my inquiry. “Some people like to see where they could have been and if a different decision was made, how their life could have been.”
I paused for a moment, still holding the book in my hand. The leather quality was nice. I quickly paged through it, noting that varying in age of the ink as someone had written each section after each possible decision. The ink in the back pages still seemingly fresh and not aged. If the angels were writing these by hand, I felt bad for those that had to write this stuff out for people with severe ADD.
My questions continued. “But why? The decisions I made through my life were not ones I can or could change. Why would I want to see what I *could* have done when I am here now. Isn’t that what matters?”
The angel changed from annoyed to curious. “Are you saying you wouldn’t change any of the decisions you made? Aren’t you curious about that the one girl you never asked out, or the day you took that phone call?”
Of course I was always curious. Those simply decisions would crop up in dreams or when I saw someone more successful than I. The decisions I made and how maybe I could have done better.
“Well, sure. But the outcome could only be relief if I had done worse or heartache if I could had done better. Certainly I had regrets about things I didn’t get to do or opportunities I missed out on but they are only mild regrets. The things I did do gave me meaning and fulfillment in their own way.”
The angels curiosity continued. “You say had… meaning you don’t have them anymore?”
“Why would I have them now? If I am deceased, there is nothing from my living life that came with me other than my memories so why would that matter here? I tried to live a positive life and do the right things when possible. Why would I worry about that life now?”
The look on the angles face shifted to a mild sense of superiority. “What if I told you it *did* matter?”
“Well then we are back to my original point: the decisions have been made and I can’t go back to change them. If I am going to be punished for any one of the decisions, why would I want to dwell on them? If I were to be rewarded, then so be it.”
The angel was quiet for some time as if they were conferring with someone telepathically or simply being decisive about lunch, it was unclear.
I pressed on. “So if I am choosing not to read this, what’s next?”
The angel disregarded my question. “What if I told you this is your only chance to read this? You will never get a chance to learn this information again.”
I chuckled in anxious amusement. “Why are *you* so adamant that I read it? Is there something you aren’t telling me about why I should?”
“None. My purpose is provide you with the book. Just like your mortal life, the decision is your own. I will say however that your decision not read it follows quite clearly with your choices for meaning rather than self indulgence.”
I paused at the angels words. Was this a compliment or an insult? I handed the book back to them.
The angel nodded and took the book from my hands. They continued. “Even those that find that kind of wisdom later in life still tend to want to read it. Usually out of indulgence. The wisest however recognize that reading the decisions themselves are more knowledge despite the fact there is nothing that can be done.”
The angel gently held the book up towards me as one last gesture of opportunity. I smiled and pushed their hand away. “It sounds like I still have quite a bit to learn then.”
“Very well” said the angel. “I must ask though, aren’t you curious about the decision that ultimately led you here?”
I let out a huge laugh as if someone had told funniest joke in the world. “Nope. I knew that decision would come back to get me one day.”
The angle smirked, trying to contain their own sense of laughter. “Very well. Follow me.”
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In 1977 a couple of guys from my church in Texas were driving to Missouri to do some construction work on a religious retreat center. I begged them to let me come along and they didn't want to but I think our pastor or their wives convinced them because they gave in. While I was there a young woman came to visit from Minnesota. She'd known one of the couples who were at the center when she was in Japan. The whole week I was building and she was helping out at the home of this couple. But on the second to last day the couple she was staying with hosted a dinner for the 5 of us who came to do construction work. Afterwards she and I did the dishes and in those 2 hours we fell in love. I married her about 1 year later and we enjoyed 29 years of joy till I lost her to breast cancer. She was the love of my life, the apple of my eye. But when I contemplate all the elements of pure chance that went into that meeting it boggles my mind. What if those couples had stuck with no? What if she'd visited the week before or after? What if the couple hadn't hosted that dinner? What if she or I hadn't decided to help with the dishes? It completely blows my mind.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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The tome lay heavy in my hand. Immaculate penmanship neatly filled every page even as the number of pages stretched and warped to fit perhaps an infinite number within the leather-clad bindings.
Death, for who else could it have been, stood silently within the hooded robe concealing his face.
"This," I started to say, wanting to make sure I understood what I had been given. "This contains the stories of all the possible decisions I could have made, all my choices and their consequences... from birth all the way to my inevitable deaths?"
"YES."
I stared at the book. My whole life, no, all my possible lives. Every selfless and selfish decision, all the heroic and villanous moments, with the opposite paths laid out to show what could have been.
What never had been.
I closed the book, feeling an anger rising from within. "Take it."
"WHAT?"
"Take it," I said again, holding the book out to his skeletal fingers. "Burn it."
Empty sockets stared at me as the tome, page still open to perfect parchment, was lifted from my hands. Death paused then asked, "WHY?"
I glared back at the skull. "I lived my life. I made my choices. Good and bad, they were mine. The consequences were mine and I'll own those forever. Being brave enough to believe in the fantasy of love and then working hard to make it a reality? Mine. Choosing to be a father to a child who's sad fate seemed already written and holding her close as she died? Mine. Dealing with betrayals and pain? Mine. Moments of weakness, cowardice, and of laziness? Mine. What may have been is meaningless."
With a growl I pointed at the book. "That isn't real. That isn't true. My choices made me who I am. All the way to when you fished me out of the wreckage my body had become. There's no point in either wallowing in over how much better things could have been, or letting myself swell with pride over how things could have been worse. What was, was. And I am who I am. So burn that, throw it away. I don't want it."
With a loud snap, Death closed the book. As I watched, it burst into flames and quickly became ash flowing away in the ethereal wind.
I felt a tension in my soul ease and I asked, "Now what?"
Behind the dark figure a light had begun to shine. "NOW YOU ARE READY FOR WHAT COMES NEXT."
He moved aside. And I walked forward.
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In 1977 a couple of guys from my church in Texas were driving to Missouri to do some construction work on a religious retreat center. I begged them to let me come along and they didn't want to but I think our pastor or their wives convinced them because they gave in. While I was there a young woman came to visit from Minnesota. She'd known one of the couples who were at the center when she was in Japan. The whole week I was building and she was helping out at the home of this couple. But on the second to last day the couple she was staying with hosted a dinner for the 5 of us who came to do construction work. Afterwards she and I did the dishes and in those 2 hours we fell in love. I married her about 1 year later and we enjoyed 29 years of joy till I lost her to breast cancer. She was the love of my life, the apple of my eye. But when I contemplate all the elements of pure chance that went into that meeting it boggles my mind. What if those couples had stuck with no? What if she'd visited the week before or after? What if the couple hadn't hosted that dinner? What if she or I hadn't decided to help with the dishes? It completely blows my mind.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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I was smiling as I read the first hundred pages or so.
Those were the early days of my life. When I was still young and was playing terrible make believe games with my brothers and sisters. The multitude of choices here never amounted to anything significant.
*Decided to agree with sisters; Page 539*
*Decided to agree with brothers; Page 540*
No real differences that amounted to anything bigger.
That was fine. I was actually sort of relieved at that, relieved to know that those choices could never really affect what happened later on.
"You're stalling," He said. The tone wasn't accusatory nor was it complacent. It just sort of was. Pissed me off a bit actually.
"Yeah, I am," I scoffed turning to him. "These were the better days. Can't I enjoy them?"
"You can't leave unless the book is done. Those are the rules," He answered. Again, you couldn't get anything out of his voice. It just sort of was.
"Is there a problem if I don't go?"
"No. The schedule can be changed."
"Than let me read at my own pace, okay?" I called as I turned to the book again. "'Sides, I'm not going to read all of it."
I wasn't lying. One of my many faults. I wasn't going to waste my time reading every single one of the outcomes that could have occurred if I had chosen a different path. Just the cliff-notes of 'em.
I turned back to the index to look up what I believed was the big turning point of my life. When I was finally able to see that the cogs weren't alright.
*The fight at the bar; Page 12,443*
I threw the pages until I found what I was looking for. I was actually surprised when I saw that there weren't many choices for this point in my life.
*Through a knock-out punch; Page 12,511*
*Through a punch; Page 12,444*
Both scenarios had me fighting which was odd. I thought that maybe there would have been a choice that didn't have me fighting. Guess that wasn't in my path.
I turned to the end of the fight, knowing that if this wasn't origin point of what I become, than the end of the fight would have been.
Lo' and Behold I was right.
*Go back to drinking; Page 12,677*
*Scare his mates; Page 12,788*
*Glass his mates; Page 12,877*
*Finish the fight; Page 12, 554*
That was it. The point where my life started. I flipped forward a bunch of pages to see what my choice where at another point. I actually laughed out loud when I saw that there were only three options.
*Join; Page 23,111*
*Ignore; Page 23,311*
*Rat them out; Page 24,555*
"Zeus be damned, I was set up from the start," I said as I continued to read down the path I had taken.
*Burn the church; Page 25,666*
*Burn the Government Building; Page 25,776*
*Execute the Bishop; Page 25,987*
*Let the crowds handle him: Page 26,001*
*Throw the Molotov Cocktail; Page 27,244*
*Use the flamethrower; Page 27,300*
*Hang the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,101* *Behead the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,180* *Fire the first shot; Page 35,188* *Call in for a Volley Fire; Page 35,201* *Blow up the Parliament Building; Page 36,333* *Storm the Parliament Building; Page 36, 389*
I continued to read down the path I had chosen, only occasionally glancing at the other possible outcomes of the action I could've taken. My smile never faded as I continued to read down the list of the methods of torture, the people killed, the lives thrown into chaos, the bodies that drowned in the wake of the choices I made.
When I was satisfied with what I read, I loudly slammed the book. Just I was began to reach into my pocket, he called over, " Ready to go on?"
"Give me a sec," I said, as I pulled out my trusty friend. Without a second thought, I flick it up and let the flames lick at the edges of the book. It was only a couple more second before the book I was holding in my hands had caught fire and was burning with a strangely calming orange flame. After I felt satisfied with the results of my actions, I walked over the him, throwing the book over my shoulder.
"It will not be destroyed."
"Figured as much. The place seemed to Holy and shit," I answered with a smile. "So, did I get to pick the ride or it just an instantaneous thing. I always figure that singing 'Highway to Hell' while headin' to hell would always be funny as hell."
"You don't have any qualms about your actions?" The only time I could tell there was an emotion or a hint of something human.
"No. I was broken from the start. Besides, I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't chosen the revolution, I would have been a lot less justified in my doings. Maybe some good came out of my actions. Maybe some didn't. I don't really care. I know where I was headed the second, I start on my path. I just hope you guys do your worst."
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In 1977 a couple of guys from my church in Texas were driving to Missouri to do some construction work on a religious retreat center. I begged them to let me come along and they didn't want to but I think our pastor or their wives convinced them because they gave in. While I was there a young woman came to visit from Minnesota. She'd known one of the couples who were at the center when she was in Japan. The whole week I was building and she was helping out at the home of this couple. But on the second to last day the couple she was staying with hosted a dinner for the 5 of us who came to do construction work. Afterwards she and I did the dishes and in those 2 hours we fell in love. I married her about 1 year later and we enjoyed 29 years of joy till I lost her to breast cancer. She was the love of my life, the apple of my eye. But when I contemplate all the elements of pure chance that went into that meeting it boggles my mind. What if those couples had stuck with no? What if she'd visited the week before or after? What if the couple hadn't hosted that dinner? What if she or I hadn't decided to help with the dishes? It completely blows my mind.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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"I don't want it," I said, pushing the book away. Although standing in a white room, pain free and healthy, despite being 93, I knew what this book meant.
"We give you the option-"
"I understand," I responded crisply, "but angels don't understand some of the pains humans go through."
"Your abusive past-"
"Will remain that way," I tell him, looking down, "I can't relive it, and I can't see what would of happened had I not gone out that night. Or, had I ended it. If I told my parents no that one time. So no, I won't read it."
"Very well," he said, the book disappearing, "follow me please, God is waiting. He knew you were going to turn it down."
|
In 1977 a couple of guys from my church in Texas were driving to Missouri to do some construction work on a religious retreat center. I begged them to let me come along and they didn't want to but I think our pastor or their wives convinced them because they gave in. While I was there a young woman came to visit from Minnesota. She'd known one of the couples who were at the center when she was in Japan. The whole week I was building and she was helping out at the home of this couple. But on the second to last day the couple she was staying with hosted a dinner for the 5 of us who came to do construction work. Afterwards she and I did the dishes and in those 2 hours we fell in love. I married her about 1 year later and we enjoyed 29 years of joy till I lost her to breast cancer. She was the love of my life, the apple of my eye. But when I contemplate all the elements of pure chance that went into that meeting it boggles my mind. What if those couples had stuck with no? What if she'd visited the week before or after? What if the couple hadn't hosted that dinner? What if she or I hadn't decided to help with the dishes? It completely blows my mind.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
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You set down the book, having read every possible outcome. With tears in your eyes, you look over to your wife, who had died 3 years before. She smiles at you, and hugs you. As you sit there, you know that you made every decision correctly, and wouldn't change a thing.
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In 1977 a couple of guys from my church in Texas were driving to Missouri to do some construction work on a religious retreat center. I begged them to let me come along and they didn't want to but I think our pastor or their wives convinced them because they gave in. While I was there a young woman came to visit from Minnesota. She'd known one of the couples who were at the center when she was in Japan. The whole week I was building and she was helping out at the home of this couple. But on the second to last day the couple she was staying with hosted a dinner for the 5 of us who came to do construction work. Afterwards she and I did the dishes and in those 2 hours we fell in love. I married her about 1 year later and we enjoyed 29 years of joy till I lost her to breast cancer. She was the love of my life, the apple of my eye. But when I contemplate all the elements of pure chance that went into that meeting it boggles my mind. What if those couples had stuck with no? What if she'd visited the week before or after? What if the couple hadn't hosted that dinner? What if she or I hadn't decided to help with the dishes? It completely blows my mind.
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
You open to a random page, read the words "you are now a handsome billionaire, loved by all, especially your harem of gorgeous women." and frantically try to reverse engineer what series of events got you to this outcome. You realize you deviated from the path due to a seemingly inconsequential choice you made because it was funny, and are now miserable for eternity.
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This would be like a TV game show where after you accept the shitty payout (and defeat), they show you that if you trusted your gut and didn’t choke, you’d have left with at least 3 xs what you’re pessimist ass is now going home with.
|
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[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
I closed the book. “What is this?” I asked.
“I thought it pretty self explanatory. Its a book about the decisions you made and what the outcomes could’ve been” said the angel.
“Well yes, but why? Why would I want to read about the possible outcomes now that I am deceased?”
The angle sighed, as if they were annoyed by my inquiry. “Some people like to see where they could have been and if a different decision was made, how their life could have been.”
I paused for a moment, still holding the book in my hand. The leather quality was nice. I quickly paged through it, noting that varying in age of the ink as someone had written each section after each possible decision. The ink in the back pages still seemingly fresh and not aged. If the angels were writing these by hand, I felt bad for those that had to write this stuff out for people with severe ADD.
My questions continued. “But why? The decisions I made through my life were not ones I can or could change. Why would I want to see what I *could* have done when I am here now. Isn’t that what matters?”
The angel changed from annoyed to curious. “Are you saying you wouldn’t change any of the decisions you made? Aren’t you curious about that the one girl you never asked out, or the day you took that phone call?”
Of course I was always curious. Those simply decisions would crop up in dreams or when I saw someone more successful than I. The decisions I made and how maybe I could have done better.
“Well, sure. But the outcome could only be relief if I had done worse or heartache if I could had done better. Certainly I had regrets about things I didn’t get to do or opportunities I missed out on but they are only mild regrets. The things I did do gave me meaning and fulfillment in their own way.”
The angels curiosity continued. “You say had… meaning you don’t have them anymore?”
“Why would I have them now? If I am deceased, there is nothing from my living life that came with me other than my memories so why would that matter here? I tried to live a positive life and do the right things when possible. Why would I worry about that life now?”
The look on the angles face shifted to a mild sense of superiority. “What if I told you it *did* matter?”
“Well then we are back to my original point: the decisions have been made and I can’t go back to change them. If I am going to be punished for any one of the decisions, why would I want to dwell on them? If I were to be rewarded, then so be it.”
The angel was quiet for some time as if they were conferring with someone telepathically or simply being decisive about lunch, it was unclear.
I pressed on. “So if I am choosing not to read this, what’s next?”
The angel disregarded my question. “What if I told you this is your only chance to read this? You will never get a chance to learn this information again.”
I chuckled in anxious amusement. “Why are *you* so adamant that I read it? Is there something you aren’t telling me about why I should?”
“None. My purpose is provide you with the book. Just like your mortal life, the decision is your own. I will say however that your decision not read it follows quite clearly with your choices for meaning rather than self indulgence.”
I paused at the angels words. Was this a compliment or an insult? I handed the book back to them.
The angel nodded and took the book from my hands. They continued. “Even those that find that kind of wisdom later in life still tend to want to read it. Usually out of indulgence. The wisest however recognize that reading the decisions themselves are more knowledge despite the fact there is nothing that can be done.”
The angel gently held the book up towards me as one last gesture of opportunity. I smiled and pushed their hand away. “It sounds like I still have quite a bit to learn then.”
“Very well” said the angel. “I must ask though, aren’t you curious about the decision that ultimately led you here?”
I let out a huge laugh as if someone had told funniest joke in the world. “Nope. I knew that decision would come back to get me one day.”
The angle smirked, trying to contain their own sense of laughter. “Very well. Follow me.”
|
This would be like a TV game show where after you accept the shitty payout (and defeat), they show you that if you trusted your gut and didn’t choke, you’d have left with at least 3 xs what you’re pessimist ass is now going home with.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
I was smiling as I read the first hundred pages or so.
Those were the early days of my life. When I was still young and was playing terrible make believe games with my brothers and sisters. The multitude of choices here never amounted to anything significant.
*Decided to agree with sisters; Page 539*
*Decided to agree with brothers; Page 540*
No real differences that amounted to anything bigger.
That was fine. I was actually sort of relieved at that, relieved to know that those choices could never really affect what happened later on.
"You're stalling," He said. The tone wasn't accusatory nor was it complacent. It just sort of was. Pissed me off a bit actually.
"Yeah, I am," I scoffed turning to him. "These were the better days. Can't I enjoy them?"
"You can't leave unless the book is done. Those are the rules," He answered. Again, you couldn't get anything out of his voice. It just sort of was.
"Is there a problem if I don't go?"
"No. The schedule can be changed."
"Than let me read at my own pace, okay?" I called as I turned to the book again. "'Sides, I'm not going to read all of it."
I wasn't lying. One of my many faults. I wasn't going to waste my time reading every single one of the outcomes that could have occurred if I had chosen a different path. Just the cliff-notes of 'em.
I turned back to the index to look up what I believed was the big turning point of my life. When I was finally able to see that the cogs weren't alright.
*The fight at the bar; Page 12,443*
I threw the pages until I found what I was looking for. I was actually surprised when I saw that there weren't many choices for this point in my life.
*Through a knock-out punch; Page 12,511*
*Through a punch; Page 12,444*
Both scenarios had me fighting which was odd. I thought that maybe there would have been a choice that didn't have me fighting. Guess that wasn't in my path.
I turned to the end of the fight, knowing that if this wasn't origin point of what I become, than the end of the fight would have been.
Lo' and Behold I was right.
*Go back to drinking; Page 12,677*
*Scare his mates; Page 12,788*
*Glass his mates; Page 12,877*
*Finish the fight; Page 12, 554*
That was it. The point where my life started. I flipped forward a bunch of pages to see what my choice where at another point. I actually laughed out loud when I saw that there were only three options.
*Join; Page 23,111*
*Ignore; Page 23,311*
*Rat them out; Page 24,555*
"Zeus be damned, I was set up from the start," I said as I continued to read down the path I had taken.
*Burn the church; Page 25,666*
*Burn the Government Building; Page 25,776*
*Execute the Bishop; Page 25,987*
*Let the crowds handle him: Page 26,001*
*Throw the Molotov Cocktail; Page 27,244*
*Use the flamethrower; Page 27,300*
*Hang the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,101* *Behead the Arch-Bishop; Page 34,180* *Fire the first shot; Page 35,188* *Call in for a Volley Fire; Page 35,201* *Blow up the Parliament Building; Page 36,333* *Storm the Parliament Building; Page 36, 389*
I continued to read down the path I had chosen, only occasionally glancing at the other possible outcomes of the action I could've taken. My smile never faded as I continued to read down the list of the methods of torture, the people killed, the lives thrown into chaos, the bodies that drowned in the wake of the choices I made.
When I was satisfied with what I read, I loudly slammed the book. Just I was began to reach into my pocket, he called over, " Ready to go on?"
"Give me a sec," I said, as I pulled out my trusty friend. Without a second thought, I flick it up and let the flames lick at the edges of the book. It was only a couple more second before the book I was holding in my hands had caught fire and was burning with a strangely calming orange flame. After I felt satisfied with the results of my actions, I walked over the him, throwing the book over my shoulder.
"It will not be destroyed."
"Figured as much. The place seemed to Holy and shit," I answered with a smile. "So, did I get to pick the ride or it just an instantaneous thing. I always figure that singing 'Highway to Hell' while headin' to hell would always be funny as hell."
"You don't have any qualms about your actions?" The only time I could tell there was an emotion or a hint of something human.
"No. I was broken from the start. Besides, I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't chosen the revolution, I would have been a lot less justified in my doings. Maybe some good came out of my actions. Maybe some didn't. I don't really care. I know where I was headed the second, I start on my path. I just hope you guys do your worst."
|
This would be like a TV game show where after you accept the shitty payout (and defeat), they show you that if you trusted your gut and didn’t choke, you’d have left with at least 3 xs what you’re pessimist ass is now going home with.
|
|
[WP] After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a "Choose your own adventure" book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had.
|
"I don't want it," I said, pushing the book away. Although standing in a white room, pain free and healthy, despite being 93, I knew what this book meant.
"We give you the option-"
"I understand," I responded crisply, "but angels don't understand some of the pains humans go through."
"Your abusive past-"
"Will remain that way," I tell him, looking down, "I can't relive it, and I can't see what would of happened had I not gone out that night. Or, had I ended it. If I told my parents no that one time. So no, I won't read it."
"Very well," he said, the book disappearing, "follow me please, God is waiting. He knew you were going to turn it down."
|
This would be like a TV game show where after you accept the shitty payout (and defeat), they show you that if you trusted your gut and didn’t choke, you’d have left with at least 3 xs what you’re pessimist ass is now going home with.
|
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