Michael lingered for a while, simply enjoying the fresh breeze without a care in the world.
A path lay before him, urging him to move forward.
"Is that what they call life after death?" He wondered aloud.
Given the long life he had lived, it was rare for him to be surprised.
"Am I supposed to walk forever, or is there an end to this path?"
In no hurry, Michael didn't complain. Reaching out, he picked a single strand of wheat and placed it between his lips, just as he had seen in movies.
Eventually, the scenery began to change.
Beyond the horizon, a colossal body of water emerged, larger than an ocean.
An old dock rested along the shore. A wooden boat floated calmly on the water's surface, gently rocking amidst the rippling waves.
A figure dressed in a dark hood sat aboard, patiently holding an oar.
Curious, Michael drew closer with unhurried steps. Once he was close enough, the figure addressed him.
"Welcome, passenger. Climb aboard."
