[ WP ] You wake up in a white room at a white desk facing a man who claims you are dead . You are in purgatory . You can get the answers to as many questions as you can ask in one minute .

Searing light. A taste of… metal. Metal and blood. Pain. Pain so intense that it… stopped. He shut his eyes and reached for his shoulder, remembering the agony from but a moment before. It felt… fine. Just fine. He opened his eyes and let them focus. Let them adjust from the darkness where he had just … been? A large brown object filled his vision, a figure drifting in and out behind it. 
 
 Everything seemed to be weaving together. Solidifying. Regaining form at the same rate as his mind and consciousness. A table. A man in white. A beard. An old, ugly man, wearing a funny robe. 
 
 “ Who? ” 
 “ A philosopher! A man of inquiry upon whom you should inquire! And who are you? ” asked the man, his nasal and high pitched voice ringing throughout the space around them. 
 “ Steve. I think.... Steve Barton. ” 
 “ Ah, Steve, is it? Well. Come now, you don ’ t have much time. Just sixty drops of the water clock. Why don ’ t we have a talk? Could you ask another question so we can get started? ” 
 “ Time? I need a … bit to… recover… I ’ m sorry… I ’ m just so tired ” 
 “ And why are you tired, Steve? Is it because you choose to be? ” 
 
 A wave of energy surged through Steve ’ s body. It felt like the first day of health after a long and terrible illness. His surroundings pulsed with light, which quickly dimmed as walls began to form around him. 
 
 “ Is this what makes you more comfortable, Steve? Setting boundaries on the expanse of your universe? ” 
 “ My universe? What do you mean? ” 
 “ Where do you think you are Steve? Don ’ t you know what happened? ” 
 “ Yes… I remember... The accident. Me, Coleen, and the girls… ” 
 
 At that instant he heard their laughter. He looked around, but could not find where it was coming from. Perhaps it was on the other side of that wall. Past the window that had now come into focus. 
 
 “ Will I be able to see them? ” 
 “ Now that ’ s something for you to ponder, is it not? Perhaps some sort of philosophical or moral dilemma might be involved? Perhaps they are not yet… ready? ” 
 
 Steve heard their laughter once again. He got up and burst through a door that he had scarcely noticed, hoping to find the source of that sound. He found himself in the backyard of his house. A yard that was somehow nestled in the wooded valley he always dreamed it would be in, instead of the blighted suburban sprawl that he knew had been part of his existence. 
 
 The old man appeared at his side. 
 “ Now that ’ s progress! What are you planning now, Steve? ” 
 “ I ’ m going to find a way to get my family back. I don ’ t care if they aren ’ t here yet, or if there ’ s … philosophical dilemmas? What did you mean by that? ” 
 
 A thud to his left marked the appearance of a table. Thick books dropping a quarter inch onto its surface, seemingly out of thin air. 
 
 “ Remembered your college reading list? Good. Good. I ’ d help you out a bit more, but I ’ m afraid your time is up. Something in that pile might help you, or it might not. Don ’ t forget to always ask questions, and from there, you will always find the truth! ” 
 
 The old man looked at Steve, and gazed at his creations. 
 
 “ Welcome to the afterlife Steve Barton. Good luck. You ’ re going to need it! ” 

