I was an atheist so I never thought I’d have to face this problem. But now that I’m dead, I’ve got to figure out how to spend eternity.
By the way, I’m still an atheist—I’ve seen no sign of Him—and I don’t know where I am or how I got here or what it’s all about. For now, I’ve decided to communicate with you since you’re still practicing the charming old superstitious custom of using a Ouija board.
I know what you want. You want reassurance. You want to know what it’s like on the other side, but it’s traditional for the dead to tell their stories first. I like that tradition, so here’s my story.
I was a drone, an over-educated and under-employed worker bee spending my days in a dimly lit cubicle. I had solutions to the world’s problems but nobody asked me and I volunteered nothing, so the problems continued and intensified.
Few even knew my name—Harold—and even fewer cared. But that was okay with me. Though my work and after work life was dull, my inner life was full and rich.
I have an incredible imagination, one that dwarfs any other talents or gifts that I may have, and I lived a spectacular fantasy life. I’ve imagined a life in thousands of exotic lands—and worlds—and met people more fascinating than any that have actually lived.
My imagined relationships would be legendary if anyone else ever knew about them. My pretend accomplishments are unmatched.
Yes, I’ve imagined doing and experiencing it all. Now I’ve got all eternity to do nothing but exercise my imagination but I’ve exhausted it. Damn!
Hey, you with the Ouija board; tell me a story. And make it good.