Autor:    Enrique Arroyo Villegas

THE WAIT

There were large crowds in heaven, the pandemic had exceeded all predictions of arrival and the righteous were seen with stern faces. Legions of Angels were trying to bring order.

I looked at my clothes, they seemed intact, someone had taken care of shrouding me with a white jacket and shirt, and that of the resurrection of the flesh was correct, there wasn´t a bad worm that was hanging around my lapel.

I tried to avoid the romantic idea of ​​being cremated and dumping my ashes in the caribes´ sea.

I was surprised by such haste for what should be the Final Judgment, I had imagined that I would hang around the stars for a while before that happened.

The trials were slow, those in charge of searching the archives on the life and work of those present were searching in the books that were piled up on the clouds, in the absence of the digitization of the reports; it resembled the courtrooms and offices that I had used to visit, with lots of clerks shuffling papers.

I wondered if there were public defense attorneys there.

It was clear, from what I could observe, that many documents on good works were missing from the archives, and people protested without any possibility of recourse when some angels with a fiery sword in hand separated the one from the other.

It seemed that hell was more organized since it had small buses painted in colors in a landscape of flames, driven by what were once unicorns —which were pets preferred by those with red skin, due to a theme of horns—, where they transported those with sick faces. They waited for the bad guys with smiling faces.

The scene, not even because it seemed very serious to me, seemed to me like the cartoons of some humorous magazine that in its day had made me laugh.

Those little devils with red complexions and horns had nothing to do with Dore´s drawings or the horned goats of the covens.

The righteous argued, demanding less severe judgments.

Hades was starting to be overbooked.

Spanish-speaking people were happy in the long line, singing boleros or dancing through bulerías.

Heaven was an intense, beautiful blue, and in the surroundings, there were large fields strewn with poppies where old people who had already become accustomed to the place ran around in their white robes.

Those who had already passed the test watched curiously from behind a cloud, in case they saw someone they knew to signal to them.

There was a break of a few hours, for the righteous to rest, which the crippled people and the street vendors took advantage of to contemplate with emotion the beauty of the stars.

In one corner the space junk accumulated, which like skeletons of prehistoric animals were sad; some metallic animals about to die emitted very warm signals, which frightened the birds.

I sat down to wait away from the tumult, pressured by those who came to tell me about their lives and works, bankers, moneylenders, and policemen on foot, with fear on their faces.

The political class met in small groups, wearing their shrouds full of medals, trying to find among those present a party friend who could give them a hand.

After an hour the Final Judgment was resumed, which for reasons beyond the wills had been advanced. There was concern on all the faces of the judges, the allegations of the scribes were so fast, that they did not even give time to reflect.

The buses pulled by unicorns had stopped arriving, probably due to logistics problems. I seemed to have seen Dante accompanied by Virgilio, nervously going around and talking with each other. I thought they had entrusted him with the task of endorsing a large part of those pending.

The demons were tired, and the sinners´ organization gave much to be desired. Because of the new crimes they no longer fit in the seven hells.

I waited for my turn to come, searching the clouds in case I saw the chariot of some ancient prophet, to get on and escape from that disorder.