On occasions I believe that Heaven and Hell do certainly exist. Like there is one place where the good is done and the light shines bright, and another where the wrong reigns and the shadows rule. In my conviction, these two singular places reside somehow simultaneously within the existence of our days and beyond the boundaries of our world. From time to time I can even feel I'm able to glimpse them amid the lines of the far horizon, alike a narrow stripe hanging hidden somewhere between the Earth and the Realm of the Clouds. Every single day they rise, along with the moon and the sun. They rise and watch us do our little and insignificant moves, as if they watched some children play in the park. They stay there, somewhat latent, waiting for us to commit some kind of sin or some act of kindness that might take us closer to one of them. Indeed, every sunrise, Heaven gives us a chance to fly to him, dressing that shiny early-morning-blue of his, wearing on its sparkling white curtains and allowing us to be delighted with the virtue of its graceful light. It stands there, giving us the chance to do some good deed, something altruist, somewhat peaceful that will make us encounter true reconciliation, love. On the other hand, by the end of the day, when the sun falls and the twilight begins Hell comes up, magnificently with its stunning reddish, brown and orange colours, bathing the sky in an abstract fire that only he knows how to paint. He extends his hands and offers us the fortuity of joining him, of joining the luscious sin and revel in the sweetness of immorality. As for us, we can do nothing but stand there, staggering like a music-box-dancer and going slowly toward one or the other depending on the fate of our lives, on the stream of our destinies.
Alessia Garnet
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