Fuck you, Sun

I woke up and touched my face to find my glasses were missing and that I didn’t really need them. I could see for the first time in, well, I don’t remember. But it feels like a long time. I woke up on a bench in a park where I could’ve sworn I’d been before. But I’m not sure. I think I’m dead. And that’s fine. I just never thought I'd wake up after I died. But here I am.

I try to remember things about my life, but it’s hard. My life was good, I think. I feel like I have a family. They all have green eyes. There’s two of them, a kid and a husband. Or maybe a wife? I don’t remember, the details are fuzzy. Maybe that doesn’t matter, and what does is that I left two people I loved behind. I miss their warm green eyes.

I don’t know how I died. Must not have been very memorable. That’s good it wasn’t tragic enough to remember, I guess. It’s strange not to feel anything about my death, or remember my family. In fact, I can’t feel much of anything. My heart doesn’t beat, there’s no ringing in my ears, my skin isn’t hot or cold. My body is just a vessel, I suppose. I can’t help but feel a little empty. One thing I do remember is that I didn’t really believe in all this. But now that I’m here, I know there’s more to the afterlife than this bench. There's someone I need to meet.

I’m compelled to walk down the trail into the woods in front of me. I push up the glasses I'm not wearing and stand up. I’m kissed by the sun as I walk. Like, really kissed. My skin’s never felt so loved, or warm. The further I go, the better I feel. I’m light. My body almost floats. I smile at the sunlight among giant trees. Their leaves dance, a lovely green. Like two pairs of eyes I used to see every day. I breathe in the earth and run my hands through my hair. I smell fresh water.

I follow the sound of a creek. It’s loud enough you know it’s there, but not loud enough to make you have to pee. Can I even pee, though Maybe I'll never need to pee again. The sun smiles brighter as the stream gets louder. I never want to leave its light. The trees thin out after a bit, and the trail drops into the stream. I step into the creek. The water cradles my body. The water is cool, but I’m warm. I’m safe. Any doubt I had is washed away. I close my eyes and smile at the sun. I haven’t felt this warmth since I was born. But I’ve felt it before. I never want to lose it again.

At the end of the creek stands a waterfall where a guy sits in the brook, writing. This is the guy. The guy I need to meet. I’d been to church before with a friend in my life, I think. It isn’t a perfect fit, but maybe I should call him Peter? He looks like a Peter. I wade up to him as he looks to the cave under the waterfall. This is the place, it has to be.

“Is this the way to heaven?” I ask.

Peter looks up at me and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, sorry guy, but we’re full right now.”

It doesn’t quite register. Maybe he misspoke. “Full?”

“Yep. Sorry sweetie, we’re booked solid.” He pouts his lips.

I’m standing in the warmest, happiest place I could ever be only to find out that was the furthest I’d get to go. I’m still calm. As though I have no reason to be sad I’d come to long for a heaven that was full. The water washes across my waist and I wondered how much longer I’d get to enjoy this place.

Peter notices me standing and furrows his brow. “Oh bless your heart, you must be so disappointed.” He points back at the trail

I’d walked along. “You can go see if the other guy has any room in the meantime.”

I don’t want to go see the other guy, but what else can I do? Peter said no. My hands fall into the water, enjoying the current for a moment longer. I close my eyes and tuck my head to my chin, preparing myself to leave.

“Aw, chin up hun. I’ll put your name down and let you know the second we have an opening. M’kay?” And with a saccharine smile, he jots in his notebook.

As I turn to leave, I press my wet hands to my face. I hope I’ll be back soon. As my feet touch the soil, the droplets left on my skin evaporate in the sun.

The sun’s kisses die down as I see my bench. Who even is Peter? He didn’t seem to like me very much. Why am I even here if there’s no room for me? Everything feels hollow, like it did when I first got here. I guess I’m going to see the other guy. I take one step past the bench and realize I’m naked. My hair is so short, I’m short. I looked down at my stomach growling and saw what I’d forgotten was there. I’m a man. A man who died and is now walking away from paradise.

The gravel crunches under my feet. It stings my toes. I see the sun, but I’m still so cold. My hairs stand on end and my fat wiggles as I walk. After the first time my balls smack my thigh, I try to cover myself. My own skin repulses me. I’m exposed. And disgusting. And walking to go see the other guy. I know who the other guy is, but I never believed in him. I never believed in any of this. Is that why I have to go see the other guy? Heaven really isn’t full, is it? Gods just hate people who don’t believe in them.

The further I go, the worse I feel. The air gets stiff. I can’t breathe it in without my lungs crackling. I look up at the trees twisting. The green leaves shudder in the wind, like they’re grieving. The trees thin out into a desert. Age wedges it's way between the joints of my knees. My bones weigh me down. My skin sags, it loses color. I squint to see a cloaked guy standing in a boat far away. Or a girl? It doesn’t really matter. I trudge through the burning sand and climb into the boat. Pissy, uncomfortable, and ready to get my eternity over with.

“Hey,” the boat person says. “Whatcha doing?”

“Peter sent me here, so let’s get this over with.”

“The fuck? No, we’re full too.”

I stare for a while, my stomach bubbling. Then I scream. “What do you mean you’re full?! How can you both be full?!”

“Look guy, we’ve been full awhile. You think any of us expected so many of y’all to exist?”

“What?”

“I mean, you guys reproduce, right? We have to keep up with your rate of reproduction. Everything is happening at once, so we aren’t really omnipotent, just always here. We can only make so many personalized heaven or hellscapes.”

This boat doesn’t even have a bottom. Sand and rocks seemed to have shipwrecked this boat before the river ran dry. I have nothing to say.

“Honestly reincarnation’s just a smarter business model. It takes longer for you to get here, and the ones that do just get to go to heaven, I’d get to pick the thing you turn into next. I’m pitching it to God before the next Big Crunch so They have time to work out the logistics before rebooting this whole thing. Didn’t one of your kind come up with that idea? See, y’all aren’t all dumb and destructive. Which one of you came up with that again?”

I sit there. I have no idea how long. My stomach boils hot. My feet burned as the sun heated the sand and starved my body. Why had I begun believing in a god just for them to reject me? I’d rather been turned to dust. But here I am, because god doesn’t care what I want. They don’t care about anything.

I close my eyes and tilt towards the sun. I beg it to love me and kiss me like it did before, because now, it gives me nothing. I’m freezing. Hot tears run between my eyelashes and I feel vomit in my throat. I open my eyes and glare at the sun, waiting for something to happen. It looks back. I wait until my eyes dry out. I’m as blind as I was before I woke up. I cover my useless eyes and spit the taste from my mouth. Everything burns. I jump and scream at the sky.

"Fuck you sun!" I fall out of the boat. Feeling for its edges, I point at the river person.

“Tell your god to get their shit together. If you’re gonna make life, the least you can do is care about it.”

I stumble out of the desert. The sun just observes me. I walk until my joints disappear. My boiling anger evaporates. I look up at the blurs of trees, hoping to make out the green eyes I felt like I remembered. Until suddenly, I'm hollow. My feet stop hurting. My body has no feelings again. It’s just a vessel. I think I’m back at my bench. I guess I’ll stay here. There was no point in going anywhere else.

I feel for the bench only to find a person’s thigh. “Where’d you come from?”

“I just woke up here. I can’t believe it’s finally happening! I’m almost in heaven, aren’t I?”

I sit down next to them and pat their thigh. My eyes are as blind as they were before I woke up here. I look at the peachy blur that I imagine is their face. Their poor, stupid, eager face.

“Yeah, but don’t bother, buddy. They have no room for us here.”