This story was written for Elle Griffin’s challenge to invent an afterlife. I decided to run with the classic.
The archangel drew his sword for what he knew would be the last time. All else aside, he’d miss it. He’d given it a proper shine for the day, and it had never looked better. The horn had been shined too before Gabriel had blown it last…. but that was before.
He looked around. Over by a silver river, a little girl was running, almost flying, keeping pace with- was that a leopard? No, a lion. A lioness! He laughed a little to himself; he’d been so busy with the war that he’d lost track of the particular species in the background. He would have plenty of time to catch up, if one could even use the phrase anymore.
Before, someone might have called out or run to rescue the girl. Now, anyone who even noticed only laughed or applauded. They ran on, past his view, disappearing into the golden sunlight.
“Well,” he thought, “I might as well do it now.” How full language was of references to time, he thought. That would change, along with so much else. Even the word now wasn’t really meaningful, since it was all now, now, all one unending glorious Day.
He shrugged, deciding that he would work out the linguistics part later. That had never been his role in the grand scheme of things. With a last sigh, yet not regretful, he raised the mighty blade and plunged it deep into the soil.
“Trees,” he said to himself. “This would be a good place for trees.”