Ruminations of an Afterlife

Bernard Littleton died this morning at about 10 AM. I had just been there, though believe me I think I pulled about 20 stitches and won't be walking across the city like this again... I went to forgive him. I was so tired of being angry. And even if it wasn't readily obvious, I really was. I don't want that shit all bottled up inside me anymore. So I forgave him. And then he made me give him his last rites which was weird, but it made him feel better. He asked me about Heaven. I told him he didn't have to be afraid. And he died just after. He's not in pain anymore, which...it's good to know.