October 22, 2025 #welcometotheupgrade

A few nights passed with THE BEST sleep - until it wasn’t. Fresh off a dream, I noticed Coco laying peacefully next to me.

I glanced up—and there was Joe, squinting at me from the corner like a kid caught sneaking cookies…

Joe sidled up to Donna. So… he started…

She looked back at him, pastel cardigan floating. He continued, Does this mean we’re still… married? Like, in the old-earth sense?

Donna blinked, looked toward Sally, then to Cat, then me. I… thought we were divorced when I checked out. But now… She lifted a hand, mid-float. Now I’m here. And you’re here…

Sally tapped her phantom cigarette. Marriage in heaven? Let’s just say: the rules changed. On earth, you two were spouses; here, you’re both part of something bigger. The how and what are fuzzy.

“When the dead rise, they will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven” (Mark 12:25, ESV).

Cat smirked: Welcome to the upgrade.

You really think it's a good idea, letting our daughter date HIM? Joe's voice was sharp, low, like he'd been holding it in for a week. Or years.

Donna, arms crossed, He's a nice guy, Joe. Why do you always have to find something wrong?
I'm not saying he's a bad guy! I just… I don't know. Something about him rubs me the wrong way.

Donna rolled her eyes. Does he remind you of someone, Joseph? Maybe you should get to know him instead of judging from the sidelines.

Joe looked down at his feet, shuffled them, and then planted them deliberately, as if drawing a line in the sand. He raised his hands, palms out, pointing to his own invisible stage. Do you see my freaking SIDELINE?!

He stepped sideways, squinting at the imaginary boundary, then did a little half-spin, like testing the limits of his celestial domain. This is it! This is all I got!


Before I could even catch my breath, Sally straightened—chin up, pearls glowing like LED lights—and looked over her shoulder. I could swear I heard something behind her. Voices maybe. A few whispers. Laughter. The soft shuffle of more feet.

I craned my neck to peek, but she shifted perfectly sideways, blocking my view. Then she did it again. Step left, shimmy right—like a Victorian linebacker.

Umm, Sally? I tried.

Without missing a beat, she sang out, You can’t see behind me. You can’t see this way. You can’t see behind me.

It was practically a jingle.

That’s when Coco sat bolt upright, eyes fixed on whatever Sally was gatekeeping. Her tail puffed up like static electricity and she hissed… at heaven.

Sally sighed dramatically. For heaven’s sake, control your feline. Some of us are trying to maintain dimensional decorum.

Joe blinked. Did she just say dimensional decorum?

She sure did, Donna giggled.

Cat grinned, hoodie sliding down one shoulder: Etiquette!
​
And just like that, Sally gave me a knowing smirk—the kind that says this is going to be weird.
—-