James Robinson had come to the bus station in the best mood possible. He was there to meet Ritchie, his son, back from a year in the big city. It would be so good to see him again, and to welcome him back into his family.

Ritchie walked through the small group of people, passengers and those meeting them, glancing around. He looked so different. His hair was long, almost to his collar, and … greasy, and his clothes were so loud they almost hurt James’ eyes. But he looked so … grown-up, so … matured. And he looked truly pleased to finally spot his father, and broke into a wide smile as he hurried over to James, throwing his arms around him in a great bear hug.

“Hello, Ritchie. It’s good to see you again,” James managed to say manfully, without choking up. Much.

“Hi, Dad. I’m sure glad to see you too! Is Mum here?”

“No, she’s waiting at home, cooking you a slap-up dinner,” James replied.

And it was then that things all started to go wrong.

“Oh well, never mind. I was kind of hoping to get this over in one go,” Ritchie said, enigmatically. James looked questioningly at him.

“Dad, I have wanted to tell you and Mum this for so long now, but I waited to tell you in person, not in a letter.” Ritchie looked around for a moment.

“It wasn’t something I expected – it just happened, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. It came as just a big a shock to me as it will to you, believe me!” he continued. “We met by chance, and it took a while, but we know we were made for each other. When we moved in together, life became just wonderful.”

Ritchie looked around again, but apparently he still couldn’t see what he was looking for.

“I know there’s a bit of a difference in our ages, but that doesn’t matter to us. And it’s 1956, Dad, you have to get with the modern times – don’t be an old country stick-in-the-mud!”

Ritchie turned slightly to his left, in the direction of a middle-aged man who had moved nearby.

“Dad, I want you to meet the person I am going to spend the rest of my life with. I want you to meet the love of my life – Sam.”

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James was confused. Nothing seemed to be the way he expected it to be, and that had him worried – something had gone very wrong!

Everything he had read about heart attacks and dying told him that there should be pain, brightly coloured lights, and his life should flash before his eyes.

But he only felt numb.

And everything was grey. The pictures flickering through his mind were grey. The colours were grey, the black was grey, even the white was grey. Not all the same shade of grey, but grey nonetheless.

And, yes, a life was passing before his eyes. But it wasn’t his life! Oh, he knew whose life it was all right; it was Ritchie’s.

James saw Ritchie as a baby cradled in his mother’s arms; being cuddled by her when he hurt himself at play; being kissed and coddled when he was sick. He saw Ritchie dressed up by his older sisters, with a skirt and a nurse’s cap. He saw Ritchie crying his heart out at the death of his beloved spaniel. He saw Ritchie painting pictures of trees and animals, and reading, and acting in plays, and … and … not playing rough-and-tumble games. He saw Ritchie ready for a party, dressed in a slinky black dress, with a blonde wig and make-up. And so it went on …

And now this! This … shock. This …

The grey light started to dim; the rushing sounds in his ears began to fade. James felt himself becoming lighter, seemingly floating away from his head. He felt disconnected, weightless, as though one of those aliens he had heard so much about had caught him in anti-gravity beam.

It was all over for him! This was the end! He felt disappointed that he was not going to be able to see his beloved Martha again, or see his grandchildren-to-be. Not that Ritchie would be having any children now!

“Mr Robinson! Mr Robinson!” The words finally caught his attention, and as he dragged his focus back to the world in front of him some of the colours returned.

He looked into a pair of blue eyes, and finally took in the blonde pageboy haircut, the bright red lips, and finally the ample cleavage.

“Hi Mr Robinson, I’m Samantha. But you can call me Sam – all my friends do, and I know we’re going to be friends! Ritchie really wants us to be!”

It came from nowhere.

The water began to come down from the skies as if it was thrown by the gods themselves. Each miniscule raindrop barreled through the cold April night, not stopping until it had struck ground. Lightning rocketed into the streets, lighting fires in the trees. Thunder echoed off of every building, and each echo echoed off of every building, forming a deep roar that the city's inhabitants had never heard the likes of before.

It was on that fateful night that a small black car decided to make its way out of the city. Inside sat a young man in a business suit, trying to make his way home in this horrific storm. A glance to the clock radio startled the driver, realizing that it was half past one. I have an important meeting tomorrow, he thought to himself. I need to get home and sleep.. The accelerator approached the floor. As the car sped, the man began to nod off. There's nobody else out here at one-thirty in the morning...I'll just close my eyes for a second. By the time the car had raced onto a bridge...

CRACK! A bolt of lightning bounced into the windshield, shattering it and waking the man from his slumber. As he screamed, his grip let go of the steering wheel. The car, careening off the side of the road, hit a metal divider. The divider, however, did nothing to stop the car, and only twisted itself as the car and its driver were catapulted into the raging waters below. The man struggled to get the seatbelt off, but to no avail. Running out of air, his senses slowly faded to darkness.

---

"Wake up." A voice projected over the darkness, after what seemed like æons. "It is time."

Without any conscious effort, the man's body rose from the water, simply floating to the surface through. Once the surface of the water was broken, his ascent continued into the air, ever higher. When it almost seemed as if he could touch the moon, a light materialized in front of him.

"Welcome."

"Where am I?"

"You are in Heaven." The light shifted forward, and the man followed.

"Where are we going?"

"We will see if you are worthy of staying here."

The light stopped and became invisible again. The man found himself in front of a cloud, seemingly lit from the inside by a golden glow. A deep, ominous voice bellowed out from the inside.

"What are you here for?" The cloud's voice sounded impatient.

"We must know where this man belongs," the now disembodied voice replied. "We need the scales."

"Very well." The golden glow seemed to brighten for a split second, and a set of scales materialized in front of the man. "Your virtue will be weighed against your sin. If your virtue outweighs your sin, you will stay here, in Heaven. If not...then you won't."

The man nodded. Almost instantly, he felt weak as a golden mirror image of himself seemed to simply appear from inside him. This replica walked to one side of the scales, and weighed them down.

The voice from the cloud spoke. "It is your turn."

Slowly, the man walked to the other side. Standing on the other end of the scales, time seemed to stand still for hours. Finally, his side of the balance began to shift lower. Lower. Lower still. It kept going lower until it absolutely couldn't anymore.

The man's golden image turned to him solemnly. As the man turned to see what was happening, the likeness jumped forward, toward the other end of the scale. Coming into contact, the image knocked its host back off of the scale, into the cold night air.

Hurdling toward the earth, the man's mind began to break down to insanity. The echoes of his voice, laughing and screaming and yelling and cursing, could be heard over the growing echoes of the thunder in the city.

Suddenly, the night air became quiet. Voices seemed to be forming from seemingly nothing. Is he alright? What happened? Oh my, I hope he makes it.

"Sir?" A jolt of electricity coursed through his body as he continued to fall.

"Sir?" A faint beep could be heard, seemingly reverberating off of far oceans and wide mountains.

"Sir."

The man awoke in an ambulance on the edge of a lake, surrounded by doctors and paramedics. A wrecked car could be seen floating in the water.

"Sir," a bright voice uttered. "We're taking you to the hospital. You were underwater for a long time, but don't worry. We'll take care of you."

Driving down the highway, sirens blaring, the man decided he was going to skip his meeting tomorrow.