The Wonders of Hell

The first time you heard about hell was when you were seven. Then, you were a naive, slender-looking boy - faultless. The Sunday school teacher, a heavy-bearded man in his early forties, painted hell as a very horrible place. He grimly told you that hell was a huge, blazing and unquenchable wild fire where sinners would everlastingly roast like cashew nuts when they died. He told you that hell was very hot and stark dark - darker than the back of your mother's pot. There will be gnashing of teeth and regrets, tortuous soldier ants and worms everywhere, your Sunday school teacher taught.

Five Minutes

There was a time when Brother Sam used to have a sound sleep, snoring, saliva all over his rounded mouth, like a snail placed on a heap of hot coals. There was a time when Brother Sam used to wrap himself in his blue blanket, a pink pillow pressed below his thin neck - all he needed to have a glorious night after he had said his bedtime prayers. But last night was different; Sam couldn't close his eyes; he seemed to have lost the padlocks to his eyelids, if there were any.