300-word story: We all have a lot more in common than you may think.
When you die, there is no Heaven or Hell. God does not exist, nor is there a cloven-hoofed Lucifer wielding a trident. Instead, you are reincarnated, although not in the way you might expect.
It's a difficult concept to grasp, but you and I contain the exact same soul, as does everyone else, and this entity progresses along its personal timeline in an erratic fashion. It will live as a Medieval king, and when that particular vessel expires it will move on to the next. This could be a beatnik in the 1950s, a caveman in the early Palaeolithic, or an engineer in a distant galaxy long after humanity expands beyond Earth.
The entity has no awareness of its own existence, only that of the individual which it currently uses as a host. It remains in place for as long as each body can last, doing many interesting, mundane, selfless and wicked things in the process, and then instantly appears inside a fresh one, often centuries or even millions of years removed in either direction.
It may be unsettling to discover that, essentially, we are all the same person. You at some point were or will be your father and your mother, your teenage crush and your doting spouse, the man riding the bus and the woman driving it, the philanthropic movie star and the historical tyrant who unleashed frightful atrocities upon the world.
Still, it will hopefully come as some comfort that when you fail to achieve a goal or keep a resolution, not only have you been successful many times in a forgotten past, but you will be again on countless other occasions. The achievement is attributed to a different name, one that you may never hear, but it will, at least in part, be yours to share.
Copyright © 2020 Rich Sutherland
Image: Byron Johnson