Felt herself rush through the floor, pulled by some Force she’d never felt before.
Before her were enormous deep red doors with ‘Hell’ burning across them in licks of fire.
They opened and she was propelled into a cavernous room.
In the middle of this was the biggest table she’d ever seen.
A chair whipped her off her feet and sat her before mountains of her favourite food.
Glancing at everyone else, she reached forward as they all did.
And realised, with horror, that she could not bend her arms.
She could hold a knife, a fork, even reach for the delicious wine.
Yet not bring any of it to her mouth.
She would starve,
Starve with all she craved there within her reach.
Starve as those around her starved also,
With all their answers… right there.
The shock barely had time to register but it did, seeping like dread,
a cruel and vicious coldness of despair and longing.
Zip, like paper tearing,
she was sucked upwards, racing away from the table,
through clouds of pure raindrops.
Before she’d had a chance to draw breath she was placed lightly down
before new doors that gleamed and flames that seemed to envelope her
in gentle warmth, as they spelt out ‘Heaven’.
These doors too opened and in dismay, she saw the same table before her.
Yet, as a chair, unbeckoned, moved to bring her to the tables side,
As she registered that here too, peoples arms would not bend,
So too she laughed and clapped and joy filled her.
For she watched those sat beside each other,
Turn and feed one another.
“Welcome to Heaven” said St Peter and guided her to her place.