Choices

15 Minute Write

“Where in the hell am I?”. George was startled. He wasn’t quite sure where he was or how he got there. Everything was beige; it looked like some kind of office, but with the barest of furniture - just a table and two chairs, opposite and facing each other. George was on one side, and across from him, a rather nondescript chap in a scruffy, slightly frayed blue suit and peaked cap that looked like the moths might have got the better of it.

“Ha - well, not hell, that’s for sure … I don’t want to disappoint, but … “ the office worker lifted a clipboard from the table and flipped the top sheet over. “ … ah, atheist, I see. So actually, give yourself a pat on the back, you were right, no hell, no heaven, just this. Just a decision”

“ I don’t understand". George was getting a little irate, mixed with a small amount of trepidation.

“ It’s quite simple, sir. You’re dead “, the official said it with such nonchalance that he might as well have said that bananas were yellow. He could see, from the look on George’s face, that he had, perhaps, been a bit too matter-of-fact and relented.

“ What is the last thing you remember, sir? “ At least this had a touch of kindness about it.

“ I was late, which winds my wife up. I was having to get on a bus, I’d lost my wallet and cards and the driver wouldn’t let me pay with the twenty I had on my pocket, and I’d had to run to get the bloody thing so I was out of breath and vexed and all I wanted to do was to teach that little shit a lesson. Damn, I think I was about to punch the security window between us, which is very unlike me.

“ Hmmm, well, you certainly taught him a lesson in the art of being petty. You had a massive coronary and died in front of him. He thinks it’s all his fault and is currently partaking in grief counselling over the trauma your trauma caused him. Quite amusing when you think about it. But, I’ve said too much and you still aren’t any closer to giving me your decision” There was a touch of irritation from him now - as if he’d said too much again.

“ But you need to tell me where I am if I am dead, am I in heaven, hell, purgatory, what, the actual, is going on?”

“Listen. I could tell you. But it would be pointless. Once you’ve made your decision, you won’t remember a single thing about this, so - really - it is pointless explaining anything to you “

“ You keep on about a decision - what do you mean?” George still hadn’t accepted that he was dead as the chap seemed to insist - maybe, hopefully, this was some weird, sick joke?

“ You have died. You now have three choices. You can go back as you are.”

“ You mean un-die?”

“No, no, you are dead. Nothing will change that - you can go back to the same type of life, everything will be slightly different, of course, but you’ll have the same emotional outlook, you’ll be the same gender, ethnicity, religious belief - or not - sexuality, you’ll be in the same country, likely the same birth town. You will lead your life again in a very similar vein. You will likely think you can make different choices, but, sorry, you won’t. You’ll probably even restart with that nasty heart defect which finished you off this time. Or, you can take your chances and go for a 'potluck' restart. Who knows what you will end up as? It could be way better, or worse, or much the same. “

“ You said there were three options?” George was having a little trouble taking all this in.

“ That’s right, but people rarely take the third “

“What is it? “ George asked a little abruptly. It looked like the man was about to tell him anyway.

“Nothing. You don’t go back. This will be the end. No more you. No more future you. It’ll be like the atheist death that you probably imagined - just a whole bunch of nothing. Recycled matter thrown back into the great universe to never have another sentient thought again. As I say, not many do this “

“ What kind of people do - it sounds like a very desperate thing to do? “ George was genuinely interested.

“ Funnily enough, it’s not what you’d think. Most people who are desperate, the addicts, the lonely, the pathologically depressed, all seem to want for something better - they think they can go around again and change, or they throw caution to the wind and give the random choice a chance. No, the ones who generally go for ‘the nothing’ are the ones who have had it all, done it all, want for nothing. To them, going back seems utter pointlessness “

“ Oh. Interesting, “ said George

“ This is all very well, but we are seriously over time here - I’ve got a quota to get through, you know, and there’s just been a nasty natural disaster, so there’s a backup to get through. So … “ the man looked again at the clipboard.

“... George. What will it be? “

“ I’m tempted by never being late again … “

Photos: Reina Sofia Musem, Madrid. 2025. Nikon z8
The artwork is Televisor en color (Color TV) (1980) by the Colombian artist Beatriz González