Waiting Room

I'm in the waiting room for them to call my name. I have to see an Angel. Just a little ironic seeing that I had spent my whole life as a receptionist in a doctors office.

It's exactly the same as the waiting room in any doctors or dentists you may have ever been in.  Scuffed paint on the walls and the skirting boards, old well worn furniture, broken toys piled high in the toy box. There aren't any out of date magazines though. Instead, there are lots of leaflets.

How To Cope With Change
Welcoming God Into Your Life
Finding Employment
Build Your Perfect Home
Relationship Counciling

This is not what I expected at all.

When alive, I was an atheist. I didn't believe there was anything after death. My parents had been Catholics, so I had the full Catholic burial. I'm still not sure if that was the right way to go. The cremated bodies are gone for good. Maybe that would have been a better choice. So far, all I've done is sit in this room. I don't know what is beyond the frosted windows. They haven't told me. Is this another life to live all over? Do I have to spend another forty years behind another reception desk? I hope not!

The cremated ones don't come here. It seems that the body really does get reborn. We need it after all.

This waiting room is a doctors of sort. I'm not ill though. Just missing a few vital organs. They're fitting me with some new parts. Being a Donor cost me my lungs and liver.

Apparently,  I need them...