Ultra short story
On a morning where fog had decided to occlude the day, the bourgeois man did not get up anymore in the land of the living. Instead, he started his journey along the earthly angels on his way to the illustrious paradise. Passingly he was struck by the buzzing words the others used to describe the beatitude that was awaiting them: eternal glory, peace and harmony, no hunger, no sorrow. The man was not certain he belonged there but the perspective made him eager.
Fact was that his entire grownup life he had tried to kill his mother but time and again faith had come up with a tart ending always in benefit of the woman that had made him her lapdog. His only friend, his goldfish Tommy, came to mind. Crumbs of the biscuit with liquid rat poison had found their way straight from her hand into his beak, while she sourly said the words, 'so your friend also gets something nice'.
On closer inspection, he now wondered if there was a God. Was he really on his way to Peter's gates? At least the faces of the others were hopeful and while the line was fast getting smaller he suddenly felt a pulling of his limbs and a slobbery wetness over his face. The man blinked his eyes severely and then he saw a kiss of life pulling him back to earth by means of his mother's mouth.