Flash Fiction


HEAVEN IS A PLACE by Bram E. Gieben

Maybe its naïve, but I didn’t expect Heaven to be this kinky. I mean, it’s not like I was a Christian or anything, but I guess on balance I was more of a good person than a bad person. I’m sure that’s why I ended up here.

It’s always quiet in Heaven because the angels don’t speak, but damn if they aren’t horny bastards. Many is the time I’ve woken up to Gabriel or Michael cuddling up for some sleepy sex; and I have to tell you it is alarming when your first waking sensation is an angelic cock up your ass, ethereal sperm gushing into your mouth.

It’s not like it’s unpleasant, exactly. Mostly, because Heaven is so quiet, I’m glad of the company. I don’t feel, you know, violated or anything. I don’t think there’s such a thing as rape in Heaven. The angels certainly don’t seem to think so. It might feel like the angels were raping me if they were human, but they’re not. They’re ephemeral. Creatures of light and energy. Barely there. Their touches are curious rather than tender, and when they come they vibrate and shimmer like someone knocked the dial on their radio tuners.

I’ve never seen another human in all the time I’ve been here, but I’m pretty sure all of the angels in Heaven have fucked me up the ass. Most of the time, I catch them peeking in on the affairs of the living, peering over clouds. Living humans don’t suspect what goes on, not even a little bit. Angelic presences sensed at the end of beds in moments of erotic ecstasy are in fact real. Completely real, and kinky. They watch over us.

It’s a bit confusing. I mean, if this is what Heaven’s like for everybody, then it must be infinitely huge. Too big to bother exploring. I don’t know what I expected it to be like, but this definitely isn’t it. I suppose I expected to see my Granddad, and my friend Pete who died when he was eleven, but there’s been no sign of them.

Sometimes I wonder what Hell’s like. I mean, the Christians were undoubtedly right about Heaven. I know, because I’m here. But they were pretty wide of the mark about what actually happens in Heaven. So sometimes I wonder if they were similarly wrong about Hell.

I don’t know much about magic, or religion, true. But think about it – demons are traditionally creatures of power. Magicians raise them from their busy, hot metropolis beneath Creation to serve human wills. And of course if you don’t bind them properly, they can do you great harm. To me, they sound like mystical creatures of action. Busy guys. Maybe all the hard work is done in Hell?

Maybe it’s a really cosmopolitan and interesting place, like Tokyo or Manhattan. Maybe that’s why demons are so pissed off when you summon them: they’re too busy to interfere in human affairs, because they’re so engrossed in their important work.

Not like the angels. They just watch.

I think they’re bored.

By Bram E. Gieben, copyright 2008. All rights reserved.





Flash Fiction