I hope that the afterlife is like a cold, air-conditioned, wood-paneled bar on a hot day with barbecue and margaritas.
The very same afterlife would also offer the choice at the snap of a finger to suddenly be re-located to a cold day with a roaring huge open stone fireplace, long massive wood tables, warm bread, and butter, with beef stew and tasty red wine.
You could always feel slightly high, either a sleepy, happy, mellow warmth or an up-tempo toe-tapping ecstasy.
I never really considered what my afterlife astral would be like until some clown online mentioned it, and I took it as a writing prompt.
Now, as I am feeling grumpy and sad, I am taking the time to write about my ideal heaven.
For sure, all I have loved would be there dead and alive, and there would be old pets come running up and begging for bits of barbecue or beef stew.
I like the thought of being mellow and high, a lovely mellow high, all warm and relaxed and calm, my brain pleasantly blank, and all visuals slightly shimmering.
I can drink and drink and drink and not get drunk, just a nice happy buzz, and there would be no hangovers. You can smoke at the table, and there would be no smell, just the lovely taste of a cigarette after a good meal, with good friends and…
