Countless men and women stood in a long, endless line dressed in white robes. He was at the end of the line and more people dressed in white continued to appear. Some would shake their heads and sigh. Some would weep and some would brag and curse. Some would talk about their relationships or search around for loved words.
He did not weep or look confused. His tall figure carried an unspeakable aura of someone completely unrestrained as if everything happening around him was not worth paying attention.
Time passed quickly or very slowly. He was not sure; all he could feel in his heart was immense joy.
Some of the officials were familiar; he had dealt with them while he was alive. Some even spoke with him. Some secretly moved him further in the line.
After a long, long period of walking and ferrying and passing some many rivers and more lines. He finally appeared in front of a door. Above the obsidian dias, words older than time were carved in molten gold.
