I had been to Heaven a few times, just in the way of business, and while I
found the inhabitants to be, by and large, insufferable, the place itself was
heartshakingly beautiful. Skies a shade of blue with faint hints of gold,
filled with all sorts of colorful traffic -- six winged seraphs, mirrored
thrones flashing in and out of existence, random self-important angels;
symmetrical paths of veined marble leading in wonderful intertraceries that, a
nagel once assured me, were both a reflection of and a clue to the nameless
heart of God. The sort of place which almost made me regret not having a soul.
Not quite, mind you, since I'd long decided that regrets were useless weight,
and there was only so much I could carry in the cart.
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