up. I wasn’t going to understand this, and it seemed liked it was the goal of this man to confuse me even more. I dropped my head into my hands.
“They don’t explain that kind of thing to processing.” He chuckled that smug chuckle again. “And the current cycle end date, that is a closely guarded secret, above my paid grade.” He tapped his forehead with a smile, but looked wistfully at his papers.
“This is so bizarre. I thought I would get answers and now all I’m stuck with is more questions. You can't even tell me if God exists.” I shook my hand and looked down at my ragged fingernails again. I must have been chewing on them a lot, they were a mess. How did I even have fingernails? Wasn’t I supposed to be translucent with chains or something? Or really, wasn’t I supposed to be my perfect self, didn’t they say that in all those Heaven is real documentaries? As I stared down at my fingernails and thought about my perfect self, my fingernails thickened and straightened out. A perfect manicure.
My head was about to explode.
I decided to focus on something that I could quantify. This Limbo thing. I had to get my head on straight. “So, what would my sentence be in Limbo?” I slid my hands out of sight and looked up at the man. I didn’t want to stare at my perfect manicure and contemplate that madness.
“Five million, three hundred eighty-six thousand, two hundred seventy days, oh and six hours.”
“That’s like thirteen thousand years?” I gaped at him.
“You did that math in your head?”
“I’m good with numbers,” I said quickly. How much negative energy did I rack up? Was I really that bad of a person that I had to serve thirteen thousand years in Limbo to pay it back? “How do they even know?”
“Well, you weren’t that good of a person, all that negative energy,” he chuckled. “They have a way of monitoring these types of things. Don’t ask me, though…”
“Yeah, above your pay grade,” I scoffed.
“Look, young lady, you have choices in life. Make a good decision, your positive energy grows, make a bad decision, negative. Looks like you made a few bad decisions in your life.” That chuckle again. I wanted to reach over and choke the air out of his throat. Obviously I was used to making bad decisions.
“Thanks,” I huffed and crossed my arms, sitting back in the chair. That was a rather insulting statement. Kind of like bringing up a girl’s weight in casual conversation. It didn’t seem like a good idea for polite company. Every moment spent with this drab guy was making my head hurt and my homicidal tendencies more pronounced.
“Granted, the average Limbo sentence is about ten thousand years, so you’re not that bad.”
“Not feeling better.” I sat forward and glared at the guy, shifting in the uncomfortable chair.
“I should warn you that in Limbo you would lose your physical form and be in “limbo” for that time. No sight, hearing, taste, touch, an endless non-sensory loop.” He held up his hands and did quotation marks when he said limbo. Like that would explain everything. Would kicking him in his drab knee earn me more negative energy? I restrained myself.
“That sounds horrible,” I said.
“Yeah, it does,” he agreed with a nod and more shuffling of the papers.
“And my other option is a position, what, like yours? Doing something like this?” I motioned to the office and his messy desk. This seemed like Hell.
“Yeah, you would work at Afterlife. You would specifically work for Karma Incorporated, that’s where they have you slated to report to if you choose to work for the company.”
“Karma Incorporated?” I looked at him questioningly.
“One of our divisions in Afterlife, it’s quite a posh position. I’ve been on the wait list for a while, the Cincinnati office,” he said with a quick nod. “The admin office for the entire company is a few floors up from processing.” Again the nod, like I knew what the hell he was
“They don’t explain that kind of thing to processing.” He chuckled that smug chuckle again. “And the current cycle end date, that is a closely guarded secret, above my paid grade.” He tapped his forehead with a smile, but looked wistfully at his papers.
“This is so bizarre. I thought I would get answers and now all I’m stuck with is more questions. You can't even tell me if God exists.” I shook my hand and looked down at my ragged fingernails again. I must have been chewing on them a lot, they were a mess. How did I even have fingernails? Wasn’t I supposed to be translucent with chains or something? Or really, wasn’t I supposed to be my perfect self, didn’t they say that in all those Heaven is real documentaries? As I stared down at my fingernails and thought about my perfect self, my fingernails thickened and straightened out. A perfect manicure.
My head was about to explode.
I decided to focus on something that I could quantify. This Limbo thing. I had to get my head on straight. “So, what would my sentence be in Limbo?” I slid my hands out of sight and looked up at the man. I didn’t want to stare at my perfect manicure and contemplate that madness.
“Five million, three hundred eighty-six thousand, two hundred seventy days, oh and six hours.”
“That’s like thirteen thousand years?” I gaped at him.
“You did that math in your head?”
“I’m good with numbers,” I said quickly. How much negative energy did I rack up? Was I really that bad of a person that I had to serve thirteen thousand years in Limbo to pay it back? “How do they even know?”
“Well, you weren’t that good of a person, all that negative energy,” he chuckled. “They have a way of monitoring these types of things. Don’t ask me, though…”
“Yeah, above your pay grade,” I scoffed.
“Look, young lady, you have choices in life. Make a good decision, your positive energy grows, make a bad decision, negative. Looks like you made a few bad decisions in your life.” That chuckle again. I wanted to reach over and choke the air out of his throat. Obviously I was used to making bad decisions.
“Thanks,” I huffed and crossed my arms, sitting back in the chair. That was a rather insulting statement. Kind of like bringing up a girl’s weight in casual conversation. It didn’t seem like a good idea for polite company. Every moment spent with this drab guy was making my head hurt and my homicidal tendencies more pronounced.
“Granted, the average Limbo sentence is about ten thousand years, so you’re not that bad.”
“Not feeling better.” I sat forward and glared at the guy, shifting in the uncomfortable chair.
“I should warn you that in Limbo you would lose your physical form and be in “limbo” for that time. No sight, hearing, taste, touch, an endless non-sensory loop.” He held up his hands and did quotation marks when he said limbo. Like that would explain everything. Would kicking him in his drab knee earn me more negative energy? I restrained myself.
“That sounds horrible,” I said.
“Yeah, it does,” he agreed with a nod and more shuffling of the papers.
“And my other option is a position, what, like yours? Doing something like this?” I motioned to the office and his messy desk. This seemed like Hell.
“Yeah, you would work at Afterlife. You would specifically work for Karma Incorporated, that’s where they have you slated to report to if you choose to work for the company.”
“Karma Incorporated?” I looked at him questioningly.
“One of our divisions in Afterlife, it’s quite a posh position. I’ve been on the wait list for a while, the Cincinnati office,” he said with a quick nod. “The admin office for the entire company is a few floors up from processing.” Again the nod, like I knew what the hell he was
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