in heaven there is a corner reserved for people who can’t remember how they got there. they pace relentlessly and circle for hours a room that has no walls. they scratch their heads and gape open-mouthed at an obscure piece of air hanging about and glance at each other, intimate strangers, bonded through death. some of them hold hands and quietly gasp and shake their heads, beginning to comprehend that they will never again remember where they were or what they were doing before suddenly entering this space, occupied by so many rational souls but completely devoid of reason. others smile curtly at the shoes of whoever passes them in their ceaseless circling, while they avert their eyes from each other for fear of having to face what has now inevitably come to pass. still others, dazed and curious, curl up in balls on the ground and rock back and forth, mustering whichever faith or reason and imploring it to manifest itself.
