Art Prompt Writing Contest #6 - "Average"

"So, this is..." he asked her as she set her gaze on the calming rhythm of the ocean.

"Yeah, this is it," she sighed in contentment. "Beautiful, isn't it?".

He nodded falsely and took a deep breath, getting lost in his thoughts for a second before speaking his next words. You would think he seemed comfortable sitting on​ the beach with a gorgeous girl by his side but, in fact, he was internally freaking out.

"Quick question," he commented, her head turning towards him, "would I be offending someone if I said this isn't exactly what I was expecting?". She looked at him confused. "I mean, is there someone watching over us or, uh—."

"No" she chuckled, "there isn't, but, what do you mean?".

He hesitated in answering that, after all, he really did felt watched, but his insides urged him to get his feelings out. I mean, if not now that his life was over, then when?

"I just, don't get me wrong, okay? But this doesn't seem very afterlifey to me".

"What?!" she exclaimed, "how is this not heaven to you? We are on the freaking beach; the ocean is calming, the moon is full. Who wouldn't want to be here right now?" she hissed.

"I'm sorry, but I was always more of a forest kind of guy, aren't you supposed to know these things? I actually hate sand too, and it's chilly. Wait, should I be feeling cold?".

He continued to ramble in an ongoing debate with himself. Questioning if this was supposed to be good, or not, and it went on for the longest 47 minutes. Yeah, she timed it.

"Enough!" she yelled after she couldn't take it anymore. His wide gaze on her, fully attentive. "I can't believe I've had this position for over 300 years, and you're making me get fired" she breathed out, completely dried out by his babbling. "But I'd rather be tortured for the rest of my life than listen to you again so, here it is the truth. This isn't heaven."

"Ha! I knew it!" he exclaimed with a smirk, "it couldn't be heaven, I couldn't be feeling cold. I mean, God would know that I hated winter" and then he paused and narrowed his eyes, "unless, that was a lie too! Was it? Was it all a lie?".

"Oh my god" she exclaimed irritated, "were you insane back in your older life or you were just naturally annoying?".

"So I did die" he commented.

"Yeah you did, and you didn't get a ticket to hell either."

"Are you sure? I mean, this is a lot of sand".

She rolled her eyes, "this is a medium place for mediocre people" she breathed out. He frowned not really following. Where did he had done wrong? If someone was deserving of a spot in heaven, that was definitely him. He always showed up on time to work; he was a good boyfriend, a great son. He even recycled.

"But I thought I—."

"Yes, you technically did everything you were supposed to, but yet again, it's easy to 'do no harm' when you never do, well, anything."

"I did stuff!" he protested.

"Really? When you died, we had to watch your life twice just to pay attention to the little details so we could figure out where exactly did you belong. And let me tell you, it was of general agreement that we'd had rather watched a 'Dawson's Creek' marathon than having to watch your life all over again".

"Wow, was it that bad?"

"Everything you did was because that's what you had to do. Not more, not less. You worked for a company that practically paid for the destruction of The Amazons, yet you helped to plant over 8000 trees on your own just by using Ecosia".

"The browser?" he questioned.

"Yeah. And you were a terrific boyfriend although you never loved any of your girlfriends, and you didn't drink alcohol but were addicted to Diet Coke" she explained. "So, yeah, this is your afterlife, just a calming ocean under the moonlight on a chilly night for the rest of the eternity."

"Are you kidding me?" he panicked, "I-I demand to speak to the man in charge! This is absurd".

"We don't have a boss, it's more of a congregation actually, but really, we all agreed on this already."

He stayed silent for a while as if he was letting it all sink in and if he gave it enough thought, it made complete sense. He always played it safe. If he knew he was hurting someone, he would fix it right away, or he would unconsciously do something good for the world instead. He earned this.

"Okay, can you just, not leave yet? I'm trying to process all this, and I don't want to have a mental breakdown in heaven, I mean, in the medium place all by myself".

"We call it The Joe" she laughed, but he couldn't see the fun in that, "you know for the average Joe, and you're name is— oh, never mind." She took a look at the watch on her wrist, then shifted her eyes to the ocean, "yeah okay, I guess I could stay for a while. It's not like I'm dying to be tortured anyway".

"Are you really going to be tortured?".

"Yeah" she nodded, "but it was worth it, buddy, you needed to shut up."​

Both of them sat down on the sand again, in front of the ocean and the moonlight framing their faces. After a few more minutes, she sighed, "seriously man, how can you not like this? This is...".

"Average" he let out, "this is average."​

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Art Prompt provided by: @tanglebranch