Stve pulled at his dog's collar so hard that he could have choked him, jerking the animal away from the colorful flowers he'd stopped to smell. Normally he woudl never have dreamed of treating his faithful old dog so cruelly, but he had never been so upset in his life as he was that afternoon. He walked at a furious pace, as his poor dog whimpered for him to slow down.

He thought back to the fight he and his wife, Cathy, had just had, and the way he'd stormed out of the house, yelling that he was taking the dog for a walk. He remembered her red, angry, though undeniably beautiful face. And that was the last image he pictured as he heard his dog yelp in panic. He glanced up, startled, and was instantly blinded by the glare of headlights and deafened by the loud honk of a car horn. It was a very loud honk, he thought, as if it had been generated right in front of him. Very strange.

Steve saw himself lying in a white bed in a white room, with five people dressed in white attaching various wires and pieces of machinery to him and pushing on his chest. Suddenly, he was surrounded by small white lights, and then seemed to be in a black tunnel with light streaks in it. He was traveling through the tunnel at an incredible speed. Then the tunnel spontaneously ended and disappeared, and he found himself in an enormous grassy field, with his faithful dog beside him. It was the most enchanting place he'd ever seen, though he had no idea where he was or why he was there, so he decided to explore it. However, they soon came to an uncrossable, if beautiful, stream. Mysteriously, a large golden harp sat on a flat boulder on the other side of the water. Steve wasn't very surprised, though. It had been an odd day.

Then Steve observed a man dressed in white navigating a small wooden boat down the stream. Approaching Steve and the dog, he called out, "Hello there! Would you like a ride across the stream?"

Having nothing else to do, Steve answered affirmatively, and asked how much he'd have to pay.

"Pay?" The man in white laughed as he helped Steve and the dog down into the boat. "It's a free ride. We always welcome newcomers."

"Newcomers? To where?" Steve asked, glancing around with a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Why, to the kingdom of Heaven, of course," the angel answered.

Steve stared out at all that surrounded him: the beautiful Elysian field, the sweetly flowing stream, and the man with a now painfully visible halo. So it's true, he thought, it's really true. I'm dead. It was a new feeling, one that would take a lot of getting used to.

Looking down, Steve realized that his poor dog was dead, too. And seeing his dog, with whom he'd stormed out of his house, reminded him of Cathy, his wife, adn the fateful argument they'd had.

"I can't be dead," he told the angel forcefully.

"That's what they all say. It's okay. It happens to everyone sometime. It's fortunate that you led a good life so you ended up on this side," the angel gently explained.

"But the last thing I ever told my wife was that I never wanted to see her again. Now I never will. YOu have to let me go back and tell her I'm sorry," Steve pleaded.

"Okay," the angel replied easily.

"It's that simple?" Steve asked, amazed.

"Not exactly," the angel explained. "See this harp?" and he pointed out the shining object that Steve had noticed before he'd crossed the stream with the angel. "You have to take it with you. You won't be allowed back in without it. That's how we know who belongs here and who doesn't."

"Thanks," Steve told the angel, picking up the heavy-looking harp. Strangely, it was no burden at all. "I promise I'll be back soon." Steve then felt himself speeding back through the streaky black tunnel.

Once again, the tunnel disappeared, and Steve found himself in his own house. It was just as it had always been, except that the dog wasn't there.

Carrying his harp, Steve wandered into the bedroom that he and Cathy shared, and found her lying on the bed, crying. Steve saw his picture printed in a newspaper lying in the rocking chair, and realized that several days had passed from when he'd been hit by the car until his death. He would have liked to stay there forever, comforting his poor, mourning wife, but he had promised to be quick. He bravely gave Cathy's shoulders a little shake, and she looked up at him, incredulous.

"Cathy, I'm sorry I got so angry at you," Steve blurted out in a rush, "And I want you to know that I completely forgive you for cheating on me with all those other men. You are the most important thing in the world to me, and you always will be, and I love you."

Cathy didn't say anything; she simply stared up, frozen and fearful, at the ghost that confronted her. Then, with her eyes wide open and red, and her expression one of absolute horror at the transparent body speaking to her, her own weak body collapsed onto the bed.

Panicking, Steve began shaking her violently, desperately trying to wake her up, but she would not awaken. Her already emotionally tortured mind and heart had been unable to cope with the stress of this new occurrence: the appearance of her dead husband's spirit."

Experiencing a horror unlike anything he'd ever felt, Steve saw Cathy's spirit rise out of her motionless body, and he immediately knew the unescapable truth: his wife was dead.

"Steve, what's wrong with us?" Cathy asked, puzzled by the strange difference she felt.

"We're dead," Steve told her in a monotone. Then, still shocked himself, he quietly added, "I killed you."

He would have continued, but Cathy was suddenly surrounded by small black lights. Acting faster than he ever had before, Steve shoved the harp into his wife's hands.

"Come back with me," he said, and, as if on cue, they were racing through the streaky dark tunnel with the harp. Then they were at a gateway, with another angel at the huge, glowing, metal gate.

The angel began to open the gate, but stopped and said, "I'm sorry, but the rule is only one per harp."

Those commonplace words formed the most haunting sentence Steve had ever heard uttered. Though he would always be thinking of it, wondering, Steve knew what he was going to do. He turned to his wife.

"I killed you, Cathy," he explained to her. "You shouldn't even be dead. And I don't deserve to be here now. If I'm truly a good person, I can't kill you and let you suffer for it. If I really belong here, I have to leave. Take care of the dog." And without stopping to think or to give Cathy time to argue, Steve released his precious harp, leaving it in his bewildered wife's arms.

What does it mean, Steve asked himself, to give one's soul for someone? Not just their life, but everything after? He'd sacrificed everything he possibly would for the woman he loved, and what more could be asked of any person? However, he'd been told he could never reenter the kingdom of Heaven without his harp. The unmeasurably small amount of time that Steve spent speeding through the radiantly streaked tunnel seemed to last an eternity, as he dreaded, feared, hoped, and prayed, wondering where it would lead him.

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