The last thing I remember is a blow to the back of my head.

There was an instant of blackness.

Next, I remember seeing people clustered around someone lying on the ground. I think there was a lot of blood, and I remember trying to figure out why the man on the ground was so familiar, when there was this odd feeling of moving, and the blackness came back again.

Then, there was - I know this sounds like those out-of-body stories you keep hearing, probably because it is, but there was this light, getting brighter, and then -

- I knew I wasn't alone.

It was this huge, immense presence, like I'd been confronted with a huge, leviathan of a whale - or maybe like I was Jonah and the whale had swallowed me because it was all around - or maybe I was back in the womb, been re-incarnated, preparing for a second life, it was so warm and comfortable, and...

Hello, it said.

I didn't say anything. I didn't think anything. For a while, I just... was. I don't know how long. It felt like eternity. Then I was thinking again; I don't know how I went from one to the other.

"Hello," I replied. Around about then, I realised I must have still had a mouth, and ears, and maybe some lungs too, because I could hear my voice, and it sounded like I'd just spoken.

I'm glad you're here, it said.

"Are you... God?"

I felt... well, you know what it's like to laugh, but do you know that warm feeling you get when you're laughing because someone's told you a nice joke - you know, not a rude or crude one, one you don't feel guilty about laughing at - that you find really funny? Somehow, I felt that feeling all around me. Not by that definition, no, it replied. You could say I'm one of them.

"One of them?"

Oh yes, there are others. Including, the ones you call God.

"The... What, you mean God is more than...?"

I think the answer to that question will come in its own good time, it said, and again, I felt its humour wash around me. Don't worry. I know just how you feel right now.

"Well, yes, I imagine so..." I replied.

Once again, I felt that enveloping sensation of humour. No, not in that way, my friend. I'm not omnipotent, although I can read your mind. But rest assured, there are more than one of us.

I was suddenly brought to mind of stories of Zeus, Odin, Ra, the Rainbow Serpent... "I think that expalins a few things."

I'm glad I caught you, it said.

I was puzzled. "How do you mean?"

I was watching you for the past while. Rest assured that I didn't know it was going to happen, but when it did, I reached out and brought you here.

"Oh," I said. There was a question lurking there, but there was another one I wanted to ask. "Do dead people need to be brought?"

No, it said, People usually find their way, although mistakes do happen. Sometimes, people get lost. Sometimes, they don't know where they're going, or have a fixed idea of what the "afterlife" is like, and as what they see isn't it, they keep looking.

"Ghosts," I said. "Wandering souls."

Yes, that would be accurate, it said.

"Well, if there are ghosts, are there demons? Is there a Devil?"

Yes, unfortunately. There are those of us who - simply hate. It's a strange thing - i'm not sure whether they fear anything, but they still bear this consuming hatred - for themselves, for everyhting else. They manage to attract like-minded souls to them.

I'm not sure where the next question came from. "Can a - demon, as I can't think of a better association - take a soul not intended for him?"

I felt - sadness; that weight at the pit of my stomach when I remember my mum, dead twelve years, turned into a sensation, like the laughter. Sometimes. It takes - a special effort on the part of the demon, so thankfully it doesn't happen often. But - when myself or one of my friends isn't looking, and the demon wants someone that badly - it does happen.

I imagine it's rather unpleasant. If hell is being locked in a room for all eternity with your friends, then imagine being locked in a room for eternity with a being whose personality is so antithetical to yours, and who will not change... Well, see if you can imagine it. I can't.

"What about reincarnation?"

Oh, yes, that can happen. It doesn't have to, though.

"What? I don't understand. If reincarnation doesn't have to happen, if people aren't getting recycled, so to speak, where do souls come from? Where does life come from?"

Once more, there was that odd feeling, of humour turned into a physical thing; I could feel it swirl around me like the wind, or a river. I'm afraid this might come as a shock: I don't know. I don't think anyone here does.

I stopped again for a while, just stopped - everything. I don't know how I did it, nor how I started again, but... maybe it's like meditation, which I never tried. I think there's something about the afterlife that simply allows you to, well, stop and just be.

Few people who come here already realise that there's no great answer - not on this level, at least, it said.

A thought occurred to me. "Doesn't stop you from looking, does it?"

I felt its humour around me - and also a sense of... pride? It was proud of me? Indeed it does not! There are some who claim to have found the answer, but they haven't found my answer - in fact, it seems that they only manage to find an answer for themselves. Sometimes, though, they abandon it and keep looking.

So - "So. What happens now?"

That is your choice. I would like to ask you, though, whether you would like to return to where you came?

"I'm not sure. Why do you want me to go back? Aren't I good enough to get through the Pearly Gates?"

I was buoyed on a wave of humour again. Oh, no, that's not it at all! You are more than welcome to stay, should you wish. But I need your help, back in the world you came from.

"I'm still not sure I understand."

Firstly, it's an issue of perception. Here, let me show you...

For an instant, I was looking down at the Earth from a great distance, and I remember thinking, this is how Armstrong and Aldrin must have seen it from the Moon, and then I was there, back home, on my own street. I could hear the traffic and voices, smell the exhaust fumes, see the headlines of the papers on sale - and suddenly it all went...

I read something once about some New Age mystical person being able to see people's auras, how they were different colours. This, what I was seeing - actually, what I was feeling - I'm not sure I can describe it, because I was using several senses that I didn't even believe in when I was alive - well, I could feel the aura of - well, everything, really. You know how some people say how the Earth itself is one big living organism? Well, what I was experiencing then pretty much wrecked all my old ideas of life - everything is alive, from rocks, to cars, to the wind itself. It's like - well, I think if I try to explain it, I'll only lead you wrong, because I can't put it into words. But, well, suffice to say, I could feel life everywhere, in everything, and it was the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced - but because life is everywhere, even in a vacuum, there are no borders. Everything is fuzzy and indistinct, everything flows into everything else. I looked again at - no, felt toward the news-stand, and although I could make out the stack of papers, and the man selling the papers and the stand itself I couldn't read the newsprint, or - the man was much more distinct and defined, maybe because, unlike the papers, he had a... oh, what you'd call a self-perception that separated him from everything else. But he was still part of it all, and I couldn't quite tell what colour his eyes were, or how big the irises were, or whether he was wearing a beret or one of those old tweed cap-things... the "before-life" detail was all fuzzy. But I could see the air he breathed as it flowed into and out of his mouth, I could see the flakes of skin as he shed them into his clothing, I could feel it all as - well, this halo around him.

I don't see the world the way you do, it said. As you were anchored to your previous frame of existence, with the potential for glimpses of what lay beyond, I'm held within mine. I'm not capable of leaving my own plane - perhaps I simply cannot 'die' like you. But I can see, and I can listen to those who meet me when they come here. There are people back there who need help - that only a person such as yourself can provide.

"You mean - like, a dead person?"

Only partially.

That lurking question that I couldn't identify before suddenly leapt out. "Why me?"

I told you that I'd been watching you, that I made sure you came to me. I didn't tell you why, and for that I'm sorry. It's simple: I like you. You're a good person, and although you didn't realise it often, you've been a good person all your life. You've made your mistakes, but you learned from them, and you forgave yourself for them. You're the kind of person I am glad to know. That's why I'd like you to go back. You've learned much that's valuable, and there are people where you came from who could learn those lessons; if they want to become better people themselves, they need them.

I almost stopped again - but part of me kept thinking. "You told me demons exist. Perhaps I'm paranoid. I don't know how I can be if you're asking me to go back and help people, but... How do I know you're who you say you are?"

It didn't answer - at least, not in words. It - how can I say this? It... bared itself to me, and it was only then that I realised how incredibly vast it is, its almost mind-shattering immensity, the infinite distances it spans, but I wasn't afraid, and I knew it wasn't trying to frighten me, because I saw it - and... again, I can't really describe it like this, but the best analogy I can think of is that it's like the night sky on a warm summer evening, but it's almost entirely filled with stars, and each star... each star was a person like me, each individual, yet somehow... all part of this greater being. Each one was a whole more than the sum of its parts, and each one was a part that went on to make a greater whole.

As I watched, stars departed from it, and went elsewhere - I don't know where, except for those that came back to where I'd been, and I knew they were going elsewhere, to other (this word is so awkward, and has all the wrong impressions, but I can't think of a better one right now) deities, or exploring on their own... or going back to new lives.

And all of those stars were whispering, all talking to each other at once, yet all perfectly able to understand each other, and they were whispering to me, and they whispered of life, and love, and happiness. Even the ones that left spoke, softly, gently, encouragingly. They were the best of us, and I knew they'd come from places across the universe, and although each spoke in its own unique language, I knew they all understood each other - because I could understand them all.

I whispered. "Thank you."

When I became aware again, I knew that there was just the one presence there, but... somehow, after seeing it as it was, I could still feel all those stars there behind it, like quiet conversation in a cafe on a summer Friday evening.

"So - how do I do this? Do I get re-incarnated or am I going back as a spirit?"

Its gentle humour wasked over me. That is up to you, my friend, it said. If you choose to re-incarnate, you will lose your memories, and will have to learn much again - and I cannot guarantee that your experiences and choices in your new life will not shape you differently. You will, however, be physical again, and will be able to interact with the world as you grow. If you choose to return as spirit, you will not be able to interact with the world without great effort, and there will be others who will attempt to stop you - but you will still be yourself, and should you choose to, you may re-incarnate later.

I stopped.

I started. "I'll return, as a spirit for now."

I was almost overwhelmed by a wave of pride, gratitude, appreciation, but I was bouyed to the top. Again, it's difficult to draw a comparison... but have you ever had a birthday party where every single one of your guests loved you, and you loved them, and at one point in the evening, they all gathered you up and threw you in the air, and caught you on the way down, and threw you back up again, you know what I mean?

Imagine those people are an ocean, that bears you the same sentiment, catching you in its waves and flinging you up again...

That's a poor comparison to how it felt.

After an infinity of that, I found myself... Nothing had changed, but I knew there was a path before of me, and it led back to where I'd come from.

"Can I come back?"

As long as you remember the path, my friend.

I started along the path - then stopped. "You're sure you're not -"

No. Not I. Not that one, nor any other that your people know.

"Rats. I always wanted to tell people 'I'm on a Mission from God.'"

The wave of humour propelled me gladly down the path.