The strangest of things can set the old grey cells going: in my most recent case, it was a mosquito bite. My right hand slapped hard against my left forearm, while my eyes remained glued to the television set where Spain and Paraguay were busy outdoing each other in a lively game of ‘miss-the-penalty’. It was only when a total of 3 penalties had been taken in open play (2 legal, 1 declared illegal, 1 illegal declared legal…don’t try to do the math, it’s too confusing, and not important at this point) within a matter of 30 seconds without the score sheet changing by as much as a yawn that I let my eyes stray towards the immediate conclusion of my reflexive action of heroic self-defense.
The flying marauder lay dead. Gorged, but dead. Felt sorry for all of ten seconds, but satisfied myself that the fellow had died happy, with his belly full.
Now, of course, the matter of his afterlife presented itself. Had he been a good mosquito, or a bad one? I wondered. Had tiny mosquito angels with sweet perfume and fluorescent halos come by and softly taken him away, or had one of the cracks on the floor widened ever so imperceptibly to drag him to the depths of hell?
Heaven, or hell? More precisely, Mosquito Heaven or Hell?
What would that be like? A Mosquito Heaven? One filled with mint-fresh humans, am sure, restrained ready prey for buckets and buckets of ever-available fresh blood! One, where no danger lay in buzzing around in inwardly radiating circles, honing in, getting a closer look, and just letting that old needle sink deep. Glug, glug, glug. And, glug. No palm to swish away, far less to squish. Ah! I wish!!
Of course not, I being a human and all! A Mosquito Heaven would be a most terrible Human Heaven, no? In fact, sounds rather like a Human Hell, more I think about it. And, a Mosquito Hell? Now, that’s more like Heaven for me – caged mosquitos unable to drink, even hope to drink, my blood; mosquitos that aren’t even within earshot or eyeshot (Is there such a word? Spellcheck seems to think ‘yes’.)..what beautiful ethereal bliss!!
A worrisome prospect, that! Does that mean there are different Heavens and Hells for each species? For different classes within a species, even? Where are these housed? Is that the maze of haze I see around, on an especially clear day..rather, night? Are those tiny specs of congealed dust and fire hurtling about eons of nothing space uniquely different Heavens and Hells, each suited minutely to the special demands of every genus? And, what happens when new species evolve, and old ones die out? Are Heavens or Hells recycled, redistributed, refitted?
That’s complicated! In fact, that’s so complicated, there just absolutely has to be a God to design that!!
The alternative, of course, is even scarier to comprehend: that there is…yes, brace yourself, for am about to say it…nothing, nothing at all, after death! No heaven(s), no hell(s), no river to cross, no apsaras or virgins, no extra-spiny pineapples awaiting posteriors that have been especially bad here on earth, nichts! Na da. Nothing to look forward to, and nothing to fear.
That’s, um, too simple. Almost to the point of being meaningless, methinks.
Couldn’t be. Couldn’t be that this is all the time we have. All the time to be ourselves, to discover and fulfill our true wants, to love and be loved, to sin and serve our sentence, to achieve and win our reward.
Couldn’t be, after all that buzzing and flying and stocking up for another day, the mosquito goes nowhere. Could it?
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