On this blue globe, suspended in a limitless, black abyss that appears all but lifeless, save for us, we are given the gift and burden of choice, and whoever gave us this gift and put us here, now watches to see what we do with it. Some choose to be good for 60 years of their life, up until they make the decision to firebomb 100,000 civilians. This sin annuls whatever good had come before, and now all that is left for him is to await death, and judgment.
Good people always seem to backpedal into evil, their lives irrevocably altered within a matter of minutes or seconds. They become evil, or were in some kind of Schrödinger’s Cat state, neither good nor evil because a crisis moment hadn’t yet arrived at their feet, a time when they were presented with a choice: the easy, evil choice, or the difficult, good choice.
Pay attention to the testimony of damned souls, whether they bear medals or await the needle. In some undefinable way, they know that a judgment has been rendered, and they await their fate.
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