Trapped, inches from paradise. What might a desperate soul risk to reach Heaven? What will it cost him?
 

     It began just like all the stories and the TV documentaries described; Thomas Mayvin found himself floating above his body as a white light appeared. Its alluring beauty was something nobody could ignore for long.

     Tom felt the presence of his wife nearby, below, watching the doctors, nurses, and technicians. Practiced and methodical like the scientists they were, the team worked against the clock. They’d put Tom under, allowed his heart to beat just long enough to circulate the injected antifreeze, an array of complex sugars, amino acids, and unpronounceable chemicals meant to protect his cells. Opaque tubes ran into every orifice of Tom’s pale, naked body, necessary for thawing it once a cure was found.

     The cryogenic decision wasn’t the only mistake Tom had made, but it set the stage for all the others. He learned that after blowing Judy, his unseeing wife, a kiss from above and moving to answer the light’s call. Faint, barely audible music, possibly angelic voices mingled with the strings of a thousand harps drew Tom’s soul toward the shimmering rays. Tom realized what he was now, a soul, not the cold flesh below.

     Then pain, like a carp snagged by a treble hook in the gut, jerked him to a stop. At first the pain meant nothing; the light was everything. It promised warmth, love, paradise. Tom strained and stretched, each effort doubling the pain until it radiated from his soul’s core to each extremity. No matter what, he remained anchored to his body with the light hovering inches beyond his reach.