The Second Last Week

I was supposed to write a short description of Unimates Night (the society that I’m part of) and it turned into a very short story. After I emailed that to the Secretary, she texted me back: “seriously all that?”

Er… I suppose so.

Anyway, I decided to post this short story The Second Last Week. I dashed out the story within an hour, so you know, be nice.

Nah, just kidding. I welcome your literary criticism.

And heads up, readers. I’ll be blogging about this documentary film called Living with the Tiger and my email interview with the director, Mike Thomas. It’ll be out sometime in Wednesday or Thursday.

 

Updates: One of my friend, Justine, asked if “… the market for restaurants in heaven a monopoly, perfect competition, oligopoly etc.? That may have a huge impact on whether they can make that little profit or not, hehehe!” To be honest, I haven’t really thought about that. Well, I would say the market for restaurant is a monopoly since God is the head honcho up there. Bartleby and Loki are just skimming off the profits. Also, she pointed out a minor grammar mistake 😀

 

 

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The Second Last Week

It’s the second last week of the semester. You’re tired, hungry and thirsty. You’re running on empty and you still have to face Exam’s coming onslaught.

You stand alone in the desert. In the distance, you see Exam and his minions charging at you. You collapse, the guitar and samurai sword slipping from your hands. The heated ground burns your skin as you lie in your final resting place. Beside you, the guitar strings snap under the heat of the sun, mournfully twanging your funeral song.

Exam and his minions approach. You close your eyes.

All is silent. You only hear the desert wind and thundering hooves of your approaching death.

Then you hear laughter.

But, wait… you open your eyes and see that you’re in a cozy Italian restaurant. Around you are your long-lost friends, mates you have not seen for a long time. In front of you is a endless row of free-flowing pasta, pizzas, salads and Italian delicacy.

It was like the old times.

Am I in heaven?

But hunger pushes away any thoughts. You devour the mouthwatering food and drink the refreshing spring water. You chat, laughed and make merry with friends that you haven’t seen for ages since their death at the hands of Lord Assignments.

It was like the old times.

But good times have to end. Sated and drowsy from the delicious meal, you decide to retire for the night. As you make your way to the exit, a guy with slicked back hair stops you in your tracks. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t remember where you met him.

“Yeah?” You ask him.

“You have to pay for your dinner,” he says.

“What? PAY?”

“Yes, you have to pay.”

“This is outrageous!”

Slicked-back-hair guy shakes his head.

“You’re not the first person to say that. But the food and drinks in Heaven are not free. Ever since the Global Financial Crisis, we’re running low on cash. So we decided to make a little profit.”

“But… but… who are you?”

“Sorry, it was bad manners of me. My name is Bartleby”

“Bartleby?”

“Yeah, I was a former angel. A Watcher to be exact,” Bartleby says.

“But… I don’t get it. How can Heaven be affected by the GFC?”

“Errm, yeah, that, it’s a pretty long story. But let’s just say Loki and I lost a bet to Lucifer. Look, it’s not something I really want to talk about now.”

“Who’s Loki?” You ask.

“Loki’s the former Angel of Death.”

“Former?”

“Yeah, God’s actually pretty pissed with us right now,” says Bartleby, “He stripped us of our titles.”

“So… where’s God?”

Bartleby sighs, “He’s still around, just not talking to us. We are destined to serve the newly deceased for eternity.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, anyway, Loki and I came up with a fantastic plan. We’re planning to stage an Occupy Heaven protest. We just need some donations from you.”

“Wait, wait, wait. So it’s not for the meal I had?”

“No,” says Bartleby, “half goes to the food and drinks. The other half goes to the Occupy Heaven protest.”

“Okay, fine, how much is it?”

“$29 for Non-Access and $25 for Access.” Bartleby flashed a smile.

You stare at him.

“I don’t believe this shit.”

“Well, better believe it. Heaven’s in deeper shit than you thought. You don’t have Access? It will be $29, please.”

 

 

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6 thoughts on “The Second Last Week

  1. Pingback: The Second Last Week (A Sequel) | Zareth Writes At: Blog

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  3. Pingback: Saying goodbye to Unimates in style | Zareth Writes At: Blog

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