Editor’s Note: This is just a piece of non-narrative fiction I felt like writing. I’m not angry or yelling or anything. If that’s what you’re looking for… um… here: “We live in a society where exclusivity, that is, the quality of being likely to deny free and equal access, is considered a positive and a sign of cache. It’s sick.”
Ok, now the story.
There is only one song in Heaven, and we listen to it all the time. It’s either very long, or else it plays over and over again. Everyone loves the song the same amount, which is completely. When the song has words, everyone knows the words, and we never mess up the lyrics or sing out of key.
Some people, people who aren’t in Heaven, might think that only hearing one song, even if it is the best song, hearing only one song might get kind of old. What they don’t understand is that no matter how many times you hear the song, it always feels new and familiar, old and groundbreaking.
The mood of the song is always right for the mood in Heaven, because the only way we ever feel is fantastic. If we still cried, we would cry every time we heard the song, because it’s just so beautiful.
Everyone can play the song, and everyone does. Everyone plays it differently, and it’s always perfect.
We want to tell you what the song sounds like, but it’s very hard to do. Part of it is how you feel when you are six, and you are opening a Christmas present that you are almost sure is just what you want, but you can’t see past the paper yet. It feels like that.
Or lying in bed, being held, and it’s cold outside, and warm under the covers, and just as you fall asleep your whole body tingles and you have never been more calm. It also feels like that too.
Sometimes it feels like falling.
Some of it reminds you of some of your favorite songs, but most of the notes are notes we didn’t know about before we were in Heaven. We didn’t know things could sound like this.