The trumpets sounded. A big crowd was waiting outside the big white door of the kingdom. On top of it, only shadows of angels with trumpets were high above to announce His Highness coming out of the door.
The white door with a gold shining frame opened up slowly. As it opened, golden flashes of lights started to sneak out of the opening door.
Finally, the door was opened fully as the sounds of all trumpets stopped. Only flashes of golden rays were coming out of the door.
As the big door was opening, the crowd crossed their arms to the air to lessen the impact of the strong flashes of golden lights to their human eyes.
Little by little, their eyes got used to it and they put down their arms on their sides. Their faces were full of amazement, wide opened eyes, and mouth wanting to say something, but not a word came out.
Without realizing it, their knees folded themselves till they were on the floor. They bowed their heads and saw that they were standing on a floor of clouds. They were not white in color but grey.
Out of the golden flashes was coming out a form. A white human form without a recognizable face, but with shoulder length hair and in long sleeves tunic clothes.
The writer rubbed his eyes trying to see him better to describe him well. Asking his mind if he was seeing him correctly. The Pen stopped him.
"Just keep using me."
That was almost a command from The Pen. So the writer continued watching the event.
The human form was a bright white cloud of amazing whiteness. It was incomparable to the white color of the big door and the clouds surrounding him. There was something very special in him.
"The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign for ever and ever."
"That is Revelation 11:15! "
The writer exclaimed.
Those words were heard after a trumpet sound as the human form came out.
"We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty, who is and who was, because you have taken your great power and have begun to reign."
"And that was Revelation 11:17!"
It was The Pen to exclaim.
The writer's hand shook a bit realizing those words. But the pen kept on moving.
Those words came more powerful and louder since they came from the inside of the big white door. They came from a group of voices.
The crowd outside kept themselves on their knees, bowed heads, and shaking bodies. Whatever was going on with them was so obvious to the eyes of whoever could witness the event.
"The time has come."
An angel dressed in a Roman soldier uniforms holding a sword, who was standing on the right side of the opened door facing the crowd, stepped forward beside the human form.
"All stand up!"
While the crowd were getting back on their feet again, they realized they were being enveloped by a clear crystal glass, each one distancing from one another. They found themselves inside a big glass. Each one of them.
There was no opening, hole or whatever, but they could breath. They tried to push the walls of the glasses but could not do anything. It wouldn't break!
Different kinds of reactions came from all of them for a while. Whatever noises, words or whatever they said inside the glass could not be heard outside.
The writer could not do anything but observe. He could read curses, cries and anguish from the lips of those inside the glass. To his surprise, nobody fainted or fell on their knees. All remained standing still as if their feet were pasted on the floor.
The human form stood still outside the big white door.
The writer looked closer to the angel beside him, he realized he looked like the angel Michael.
Unconsciously, the writer did not realize that he stopped writing and touched his right forehead with the pen as the thought of the angel passed through his mind. Then put the pen back to work.
There were all kinds of finished reactions of all those inside the crystal glass. Some crying hopelessly almost crushed against the wall of the glass. Most of those crying were women. Women of all ages.
But there were men too. Men of all ages. Many of them murmuring words that no one else could hear. Others stood still hitting their fists on the glass wall until all their strength ran out and they were crying helplessly.
Yet others were standing still proudly enough with their eyes in red fires staring fiercely at the human form. In their open mouth could be seen the gnashing of their teeth. They seemed to be about to explode.
All inside the glasses were of all ages, from newborn babies to dying old.
The writer could not stand the vision, trying to hold with his left hand his falling and stressed forehead.
"Can we stop for a while?"
He looked at his pen as if talking to it. Actually, begging The Pen. But the pen kept writing.
Another trumpet sounded.
While the second trumpet sounded, unimaginable numbers of angels came out from the white door. They have no clear faces but cloud human form and all with shoulder length hair, long sleeves tunic clothes with golden sashes across their bodies. All of them holding a book!
"Was it a book?"
The writer asked himself or maybe The Pen.
"Yes!"
Well, The Pen answered back. Then it went back to work on the paper.
After all the angels came out from the white door, each one went to stand beside each crystal glass. All who were inside the glasses stood still, even the babies and dying olds. It seemed automatic to all without themselves realizing it.
As soon as all the angels were in their places, they held the white book in both arms with their arms folded at waist length to their bodies. It seemed that they were waiting for something heavy to happen to the book and making themselves sure they were holding the book safely.
The angel standing on the left hand side of the big white door stepped forward and stood beside the human form.
"It is time!"
All the angels faced the one inside the crystal glass and pointed their forefingers to the foreheads of those inside the crystal glasses.
At the point of the angel's finger, the heads of all got opened. The brain of men was exposed!
The angels got back to hold their books tightly. Those inside the glass did not realize what was happening. Only the angels and those who were outside the glasses could see.
From the opened brain, no blood came out. But the one inside could realize that elements were coming out from their heads. From some of them came out dangerous animals like cobras and serpents. As they came out inside in living forms, they came out the glasses in spirit forms.
The writer stopped once in a while touching the middle of his brow trying to ease the stress of the vision. But he could not stop writing. His hand with the pen kept coming back to the paper.
"Look how those spirits landed on the Book!"
It was an order from The Pen as felt by the writer. So in his vision he made a peep in the book.
The Book in its top page was written with a plus (+) and a minus (-). The plus on the right and minus on the left. A word was written on the plus as a spirit landed on it. It said Kindness. Another word was written on the left and said Cheats.
The angel looked at the writer and smiled.
"What are you doing?"
He asked the angel.
"It is harvest time."
The angel responded. Then suddenly, the angel had to hold tight the book as a serpent came out of the man's brain inside the glass and it came out as dark spirit landing as Hate on the book.
The man inside was just looking fiercely on the angel outside as the process moved on. It seemed like his focus was concentrated outside the glass, he did not realize what was coming out of his mind and they were all on the floor accumulating! It was obvious he could not sense them on his feet.
Finally, the processing of everyone was finished.
"What happens now?"
The writer asked the angel.
The angel showed him the Book.
"Tell me what is more in here?"
The writer looked down the book and saw more minuses than pluses. His attention was turned to the man inside the glass as the man finally realizes what he was surrounded with.
The man started to shout with pains and anger as he was bitten by the wild animals inside his cage. There were more of them, actually all of them! He was trying to look for something good from the inside.
"You will not find anything anymore if ever there has been any of them."
With big eyes questioning the angel, the writer expressed his doubt.
"But humans are humans. We are bound to commit mistakes and sin."
The angel looked at him and erased the worries from his forehead.
"Yes. That was the reason why God has sent His Beloved Son."
As those words were uttered, the angel guided his look to the human form by the front door. The writer then understood who that human form was.
"Now back to me."
It was The Pen talking back to the writer. He realized he was not with the angel anymore.
As the angel finished the harvesting from the man, the book was thrown inside the cage and it turned into fire that burned what's inside without breaking the glass. The angel then pushed it to fall down below and disappear from the clouds.
The angel then went back empty handed, first kneeling before the human form, then disappearing upon entering the door.
"I believe we better stop here."
The writer expressed his intention but The Pen opposed.
"No! Was it only the brain being processed?"
The writer responded to his own imagined conversation.
"Of course not! All senses and whatever is inside a man was being processed by the angels."
The Pen obviously would question anything not written on the paper.
"I did not see them."
Then the writer reasoned out.
"They are too much for you to hold and tiring for me to write."
The writer anyway went back to the vision. The Pen did not go on talking but kept working. Being the pen, it was just watching from the far without getting closer to any angel as the writer did.
In all crystal glasses, the human hearts were opened too. From some of those inside the glass, from the heart came out a book, a poem, a stethoscope, a rosary, and even a pen!
The writer stopped and looked at his pen.
"What?"
The Pen asked him.
The writer just smiled and kept his pen working. He went back to the vision.
The harvesting as the angel called it was finished.
Some of the angels with golden sashes who came out for harvesting brought back the white book. That time the book became much brighter than before. All of them knelt with hands clasped before them to give honor and praises to the human form before entering the door.
Once all the angels were out of sight except the two besides the human form, in the crowd remained only those with white clothes.
Those inside the crystal glasses were wearing white clothes. Around them were clear white clouds that bursted and opened the glass. The faces of those left were glowing, all smiling, fresh and happy. Glorious!
Suddenly, the face of the human form and arms became bright flashing gold. Upon recognizing him, all in white clothes with the two angels left, they fell on their knees with their heads bowed.
"My Lord!"
Those words were heard, resembling the sound of the flashing waves of the ocean.
The writer rubbed his eyes, closed it and opened again to see the face of the human form. The Pen laughed, swaying its lines.
"You are still alive, my friend. Not even Moises was granted to see His face."
The writer laughed with the expected words from The Pen. As they stopped and went back to work, they heard the human form speaking to all.
"It is time. Come. Follow Me. Share the kingdom of my Father with me."
The two angels beside Him went back to their original places on the sides of the big white door. The human form went inside but stayed by the entrance while all in white clothes passed by, hugging him and kneeling before Him as they entered the door.
The writer felt exhaustion, sensing the stiffness of his neck and shoulder, he fell asleep on top of his paper.
When he woke up, the pen was tickling the point of his nose with its cover tip.
"Good morning!"
He woke up suddenly.
"What happened?"
The pen responded writing.
As soon as all in white clothes entered the kingdom, the door was closed by the two guardian angels as they went inside too. While the big white door was disappearing slowly, there were joyous songs of harps and angelic laughter coming from the inside.
"Thank you Pen."
The writer was satisfied with what was his ending, but felt hungry in his stomach. So he left to get some food. But to his mind remained something undone.
"I should have asked the name of the angel I talked with."
From nowhere, he heard a name.
"Gabrielle."
He was already with a cup in his hand. He dropped his coffee and broke the cup as he heard the name like a whisper to his ear.
He turned around and he saw that the noise came from the pen as it fell to the floor.
"Really?"
He said to himself and shook his head. He picked up the broken cup and prepared himself another coffee.
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