The Rapture, 3rd class
a short story with a bit of irreverent silliness. As the saying goes it seems when others see a light in the tunnel I see an oncoming train.
This wasn’t how she had planned it. She tried to feel exalted but it was very difficult. She had always envisioned being in a meadow bathed in golden light, with a flight of doves, an angelic choir, a divine hand appearing through the swirl of clouds like Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam, reaching toward hers.
Instead, unceremoniously, in the middle of a dingy alleyway, in the heart of the sinful city, she was suddenly lifted from the hot brick paving stones. She was drawn upward slowly in fits and starts, her little toes pointing toward the earth, her arms open and her head dangling backward in surprise.
She knew she wasn’t one of the most saintly members of the congregation, but she wasn’t the worst either. She just plain wasn’t ready for this! Her shoes had fallen off and what was even worse was that she suddenly remembered how her mother, who had a fear of embarrassing moments, always told her to be prepared in case of a rapture, to not only dress appropriately but also make sure her underwear was clean and without holes.