Notes

Author's Note
For a man with such depression, his mind stems to existentialism, he doesn't have the power to partake in ignorance, to distract himself with emotions of love, mindless work, and other things. The unhappiness of man arises from one's ability to keep quiet in their chamber. However, no matter what life men lead, be it either poor or rich, mediocre or pious, their feeble happiness will not sustain them. I’m one of those men. I became less afraid of death, although my circumstances shouldn't make it so. This is one method I'll use to distract myself, until my life comes to an inevitable end-either through an incurable illness or through my own hand.
Chapter 2: How It Was Here
Beyond the real world, there is a place void of time, space, meaning and all logic. Tables, a few candles lighting up the place and glasses and an alcohol display... It's a bar. I should explain.
My name is not important. I’m a fallen angel of sorts, but through the Almighty One, I was tasked with helping Thanatos with his job. And that's why I created a bar. It serves as a passage into purgatory, hell or heaven depending on the person's religion or lack thereof, depending on the person’s life or lack thereof, depending on the person’s deeds or lack thereof. A bar seemed like the most appropriate setting to create, with an inviting atmosphere and it's alluring with its alcohol and meals. I tended the bar and kept care of the temporary patrons.
It was another day in the world. Thousands of people die in various ways, from old age to illnesses to suicide. I set the tables as usual and cleaned up the place. It often gets lonely for an angel. The Grim Reaper never rests as he roams the earth collecting souls. I wait for the next batch to come in as I light a Havana cigar. A man-made item usually doesn't get into this place, however the man who was buried with one decided to give it to me as a gift. It had a soft feel and a particular odour. The smoke I produced was heavy and deep. I hate this part. It seems like years when I can start to talk to another soul. It seems like years when I can start to smile again. This is a curse for a fallen angel after all.
But the man with the cigar; he made me smile. I spoke to him as if he was a close friend. Although the concept of time didn’t exist here, he still thought that was the case and felt that he talked for hours and hours with me. Ashtray after ashtray, we talked about his life and his endeavours. Humans; so complicated yet so interesting. They are flawed despite being God’s best creation. Man is weak. That's my opinion. Yet they make me feel needed and happy. But I'm glad there's an abundance of them; even if I questioned their existence as much as they questioned themselves...







Chapter I: The Man With A Cigar
It was another day-In Earth Standard Time. The tables were already set and I lounged around in boredom. The bell rings and I look at the door. It was the Grim Reaper and more. There were 5 souls, three women and two men, neither relative nor friends...
“Please take a seat.” I say, and the souls all sat on their own tables. One of the women sat with that worried look in her eyes, a really worried look.
The Grim Reaper approaches me, “The three women are Christians, Protestant. One man is Muslim and the other is an Agnostic. They didn’t really talk to me much during the ride here. Not a single question. Not even the agnostic one, which is ironic but beggars can’t be choosers. You know what to do. Except the latter, they all lived pretty normal religious lives.” He polished his scythe and left in through the same door.
I started to take their order of sorts, but the religious ones didn’t really respond to what I said. Annoyed, I just gave them steak and fries. The Muslim one pondered at the meal.
“Is this halal? I can only eat halal.”
“Yes it is. Don’t worry about it, just eat.”, I replied with a stern, yet bored voice.
Hopefully this isn’t the most I’ll get out of a person today. It’s hard enough trying to talk to people with my personality and introversion. I pour myself a drink to pass the time.
“Waiter, a drink please.” It was the agnostic man. He wiped his mouth on the napkin, with a pleased look.
“What would you like?”
“What do you have?”
“Literally anything. You know you can ask for any drink right?”
“Oh, I see. What a relief...”
He starts to ponder his decision, and I repeat myself to the other patrons. Yet they just kept eating and so I gave them water for the time being.
“So you made a decision?” I ask to the agnostic man.
“Your best wine. No, a pinot noir please. Remarkable meal, one of the best I ever had.”
I served the man again, but now with a better expression. He drank his wine rather slowly, savouring the taste.
“You must have quite the appetite.”
“Well, when you die from a stroke, it does leave you with an empty stomach for hours. Can't remember the last thing I had, what was it... Something my wife made.” He starts looking inside his blazer pocket and reveals a silver case. Inside was a few cigars and some matches. With some difficulty, he lights one and smokes. “You ever had one of these?” He points to the cigar leaning on his lips.
“No, I haven't. Man-made items don’t usually get here.”
“What a shame. Though I can't blame you. These and cigarettes killed me. I'm sure of it; I was an addict and I just couldn't stop. I never thought life would come my way, and I was alone in my younger years. I never wondered about my future. Am I rambling on to-”
“No, no, keep going.”, I say as I sip my bourbon.
“So I just kept being me really. Drinking and partying with my friends and acquaintances. And then I met her. This girl. I couldn't believe it really. When she took my hand, she showed another path for me, as if it was the yellow brick road in life. I went on several dates. I kissed her so many times. I loved her for so long. And eventually, I proposed to her and she made me the happiest man in the world. My son came soon after.”
He paused and took another sip of wine. He looked at me as if I'd know what happened next. I pour some more wine for him.
“Thanks. Then when he was 8, I collapsed somewhere. Doctors rushed over and revealed to me that I had cancer. I needed treatment. And somehow, I lived. Even after smoking for so long, I managed to pull through. I lived a better life after that, everything was easier and family was all around me. I'm an outgoing person anyway. I like people. Even if they're hard to understand, we just got to try to understand them anyway. In my life, there were no two of the same on my street. I knew everyone and everyone knew me. And they knew me well.”
Some of the other patrons smiled at the importance of family and friends, while one remained distant yet close to the conversation. They continued eating their meal, listening closely.
“But then came the day. It was a stroke I believe. That's all I could hear and the sirens, oh the sirens. I was in the hospital for a few hours until I passed. I heard the doctors; I knew all about it. But what hurt the most was my wife. She was crying, screaming even. My son kept quiet for some reason, I guess he was traumatized. I wanted to say something but I... Just couldn't. I... Tried. I just wanted to tell him I love him. And I love her. I just wanted to apologize. It's all my fault. It's my fau-”
I interrupt him, placing my hand on his shoulder.
“It's not. It's nature. It happens. They know what you said. Trust me. They love you too, no matter what happened to you and they know you'll be in good hands.”
He stayed silent. He slouched forward with a frown on his face.
Suddenly, the woman who stayed silent spoke.
“Maybe if you had God within you, you’d still be down there. With your family.” The others didn't butt in, they were surprised as I was.
I look at her with disgust. “Nice hindsight, as if that’ll help right now. You do realise he's agnostic, right?”
“I’m just saying, God has a place for those who worship him!”
“And what, just because he didn’t believe in it means he has to suffer? Sit down!”
The man drew his cigar out and spoke again, “She’s right; I’m worthless. I didn’t even know if God existed. I didn’t go to church or anything.”
The woman felt guilty after that comment. “I'm sorry, that's not what I... I’ve believed my whole life and... My family wants me to be in heaven. I never heard of someone like you really. Someone who doesn't... Who's... Agnostic.”
I didn’t realise religious people could be such buzzkills, but that didn’t stop me from reassuring him. Her biased argument on life didn’t mean anything to me anyway.
“You lived life on the path you took. I’m sure the Almighty One will take it accordingly how he sees fit.”
The man chuckled a bit. And threw the end of the cigar into an open ashtray. “You know, if He puts me in Hell, you'll hear from my wife. She's a real bossy type; can complain her way into anything.”
I smiled and pat him on the back.
“If you did good in your life, He’ll do the same for you. Relax.”
I finish my bourbon and hear the bell. In front of the bar lied another door, one materialising before us. This was the time for them to go. They all stood and were ready to go.
“This leads to whom you’ve worshipped and/or what you believed in. I trust you all know where you’re going to and bid you all farewell.”
The pious ones went first without hesitation. Understandable, knowing that their God will judge them accordingly. But the agnostic one. He quietly looked at his cigar case.
“Something the matter, sir?”
“No, no. Nothing wrong.” He walks over to me, and passes the cigar case to me and another pack of matches.
“Take this. I’m not gonna need it where I’m going...”
“Where do you think you’re gonna go, sir?”
“I... Don’t know. It’s like you said, God will do good to me as I did good my whole life. I think I’m gonna be fine.”
“Thank you.”
“And the same to you.”
He was the last one to walk through the gate. And that was the last time I saw him. I didn’t really know where he went, I don’t get that information. But I think it’s safe to say he’s doing well.
And now to put this cigar to good use...