And the gavel pounds on the block, and the sound resounds through the skies.
And all stop their rejoicing, and look towards the gates, to see who has arrived next.
Singers pause and prepare their scores for the welcome chorus, while dancers gets into position. Drummers raise their arms in expectation, as waiters prepare the feast for the new addition.
But he does not know this, he that stands behind the gates, he that is in front of
he that pounds the gavel on the block.
And with each pound, a memory flashes through the mind. A good deed, an act done in kindness and with goodwill towards men.
And with every pound, a memory flashes through the mind. An evil deed, a vicious thought, hurtful speeches, and seeds of discord.
And a balance appears, and the deeds of each kind are placed and weighed.
The balance leans heavily towards one side, and it's not the good deeds.
Every being behind the gate, that was rejoicing and dancing and singing now stops, and looks in the same direction, their hearts hoping and praying.
And there is sadness in the air. But then a gasp of astonishment is echoed through the beings, unseen and unnoticed behind the gates. The scales have tipped back to the other side, in favour of the good deeds.
A closer look reveals a drop of blood.
And the gates open.
