I was one of a group of half a dozen rather unworldly-looking beings, almost ghostly in our appearance and seeming to be without material substance. I had no memory of how I got here and no knowledge where I was. But I knew that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
It was very dark and I could see nothing other than a blueish glow emanating from my companions and me. They all seemed to be as confused and disoriented as I was. I tried to speak but, I could produce no sound.
Without warning, an apparition appeared before us, emerging from the darkness and literally gliding into view. She had the appearance of a woman with long, flowing red hair and she was carrying some sort of bowl in her hand, in a fashion as one might when making an offering. She possessed an ethereal look, translucent and pulsating in such a matter that made it seem as if she was, at the same time, both there and not there.
In a voice that was soft and delicate, yet lilting, she said, “Welcome to Purgatory, my friends. Each of you has died in God’s grace, but you are still imperfect and must undergo the process of purification so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven.”
“Damn,” I thought to myself, since I was unable to vocalize. “It seems that I bet on the wrong horse when I was alive. I believed neither in God nor in the afterlife.”
The apparition floated over to me, took the bowl she was holding, lifted it over what once would have been my head, turned it upside down, and emptied the contents of the bowl over me, causing me to experience a pressing sensation on my chest. “No,” she said, “you are right where you belong.”
Then I heard what sounded like a cat’s purring and as I slowly returned to consciousness, I discovered that I was in my bed and the pressing sensation on my chest was from my cat sitting on my chest and kneading me.
Written for the Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent. Image credit: unattributed.
This, That, and the Other 
Good writing Fandango! Seemed too real.
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Thanks, Sadje.
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You’re welcome 😉
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I could never accept a God that demanded belief in return for salvation…to be a good man should be enough.
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This is an interesting view.
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I love the anticlimax with the cat ! 🐱
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I’ve been woken up from dreams in this manner with some regularity.
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I don’t really know what that means.
The doctor in me would call it anxiety or indigestion.
But whatever it is you should capitalise on it and turn it into a short story collection.
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It means I’ve been woken up by my cat standing on my belly kneading my chest.
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It would be an interesting collection of stories/perspectives.
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Glad you woke up.
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Yeah, me too!
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Cat’s are known to bring us back to reality! Great story!
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Thanks, Jen.
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You’re welcome AND stay strong my good friend. I’ll be thinking of you…well often 🙂
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You need to also sleep with a really big dog. That should complete the experience.
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Great story… I agree with everyone. Maybe a series of short stories with your cat in charge of your dreams.
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it’s good to know the horse is still standing, and there are plenty of chances left to get it right, it’s a 2020 year, amen
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