When John initially faced his death, he didn’t really like it. Let’s be honest, who would have? John’s life-long dream was to buy a fishing boat and he was just returning from a successful boat purchase. He was like a little child who could hardly wait to go… well, fishing.

So realizing he wasted one and a half year saving money, simply to get interrupted by a drunk driver and his 6000-pound truck didn’t sit all too well with John. As I said, he REALLY wanted to go fishing and now all he could do was fantasize how he could just kill the guy if only the fore mentioned guy didn’t kill him first. Lucky break Mr. Guy.

“Making a face as if you just stepped into a pile of dog crap is a bad way to start your afterlife, wouldn’t you say?”

This was the first sentence John heard after being hit by the truck as he tried to cross to the other side of the road. Needless to say, instead of crossing the road, John crossed to the afterlife.

Now, for descriptional purposes, I need to tell you how afterlife looks like. For John, it was a continuous gradient of purple with a bebop jazz tune in the background. You see, besides fishing, John also liked blueberry pie, and besides fishing and blueberry pie, John also enjoyed upbeat jazz music. A true class act!

Now, you might be wondering why there were no fishes if John loved fishing?

How the hell should I know??? I’m not dead; John is, ask him.

Also, for you, it will probably be something else, but there’s still time until we (you) find out. Back to the story.

“Who’s there?” John asked as any dead man would.

Ok, sorry, sorry. I need to add another description. This is the last one, I promise. For the sake of the story, we’ll say the thing talking to John was a wise man with a very long beard, but it could have been a god, force of the universe, or any other omnipotent entity. Actually, it could even have been a cuddly, small rabbit. All-powerful forces most likely aren’t limited by the human understanding of what’s frightening, powerful or worthy of respect.

“I’m the one whose job is to lead you to the afterlife, John.” The wise man/force of the universe/rabbit replied.

“Afterlife? Look, I don’t want to be a buzz-kill, but I’d like to go fishing. I already decided the color of the boat, extra equipment, and even the name for the boat. It’s going to be Suzanne. Can I go back just for a while to test it out?”

“No.” The wise man said.

“Goddammit… sorry, didn’t mean to insult you. Well if I can’t go back, is there at least fishing in the afterlife? Surely many fishes have died before me so the afterlife must swarm with them, right?”

“Hmm, nice one, but no.” The wise man replied in the same cold tone.

John was a stubborn guy, so he didn’t give up so quickly. He asked question after question and the only answer John got was a simple “No”. Finally, he made peace with the fact he’ll never meet dear Suzanne and asked: “Look, I worked hard to get that boat, and now, what’s the point? What’s the meaning of life if I couldn’t even achieve everything I wanted to achieve in those few years I had down there?”

The wise man looked at him and said: “John, just a few minutes ago your family found out you are dead and they are crying. They never felt such sadness in their life, especially your wife.”

“Boy, you sure do know how to cheer a dead man up. I can see you’ve been doing this for quite some time, quite a professional.” John replied. “What are you trying to say?”

The wise man continued his wisecracking: “If you weren’t a good person, if you didn’t care and love your wife, your children, and your friends the way you did, would you say they’d be grieving right now?”

John thought for a second, scratched his half-bald head and said: “Well, probably not. You got me with that one.”

The wise man continued: “Every action you made was for a reason, one way or another. Even that boat you just bought. Spoiler alert, guess what will soon pique the interest of your young daughter?”

“Suzanne?” John asked.

“No John, Roxanne who doesn’t have to put up a red light. Of course, I’m talking about the boat.”

John laughed for the first time in his afterlife and asked: “So if what you’re saying is true; that every action we make somehow connects to something else and thus creates meaning. Are you trying to say the meaning of life is life itself? I wasn’t all that good in my life, as you probably now. For instance, a guy lost his job because I didn’t want to admit to the boss I was the one who screwed up a business deal.”

“Well, you are only human.” The wise man said.

“Unlike you, I suppose.” John replied.

“Ok, if the meaning of life is the fact that there is no meaning and if it’s the life that is the meaning. What next? Where am I going now? Certainly not somewhere where I can fish as you kindly implied.”

“Who do you think I am John? Spoilers they aren’t allowed in the afterlife. Now, are you going to sit on your ass for the entire afterlife or will you continue the story?” The wise man said.

“Do I really have a choice?” John asked.

“As I said John, no spoilers.”

“You know, you did give me a spoiler alert just a few minutes ago.”

“Fuck you John.”

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Note: Originally published on my site syetastories.wordpress.com (slowly moving my content to steemit)