He opened his eyes and found himself in a long queue. What’s this? I was just napping!‘Bit of a shock, eh?’ asked the fellow behind him. ‘Name’s Chris — pleasure to meet you.’He frowned slightly as he shook Chris’s hand. ‘My name is, um …”That’s fine — takes a minute sometimes,’ Chris said, leaning close. ‘You don’t have to say it. We all know who you are.’Turning away, he suddenly found himself at the front of the queue. A man who looked suspiciously like David Bowie handed him a crown. ‘Cheers, and welcome,’ the Bowie-like fellow said as he winked the lighter of his eyes. ‘You’ll probably want to go with Chris. He’ll take you to the music section.’
My heart broke moments ago to read of the death of music icon, Prince. I offer these 120 words in his memory and envision my Christopher, taking him to orientation and over to join the Heavenly Band. Forgive my creative license in replacing St. Peter, who is usually depicted at the Gate. Getting your crown from Mr. Bowie would undoubtedly be a cool thing for a musician making his way to an eternal home …
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