A Trump supporter dies and goes to Heaven.

He finds himself in a beautiful garden, and the only people he ever meets are true American patriots. No Muslims, no Jews, no Chinese or Hindus, no Hispanics and few African Americans… In short, this is perfect. As it should be, of course.

He spends eons wandering the place. But one day he realizes something. “God”, he asks, “Why are there no other nations? Sure, some of them were pagans or atheists, and obviously Jews and Muslims got it all wrong, but what about other Christians? I know a lot of people born in shithole countries like Hispanics were criminals, from gang members to powerful and corrupt people to just petty thieves because I guess it’s hard to live in a place like that and do everything right. But frankly I wasn’t saint either. If I deserve your mercy, how come I never meet anyone from these countries who likewise does? Did you just send them all to Hell?”

“Not… exactly. They are elsewhere, you don’t need to worry about them – unless that is what you want.”

And so the man spends another few millennia in the garden. He has more and more joyful experiences, and his bliss only ever grows. But his memory is perfect now, and so he doesn’t forget his doubts, and eventually he decides to ask again.

“I think I’ve met everyone in Heaven by now. And you told me there were good Christians who were not in Hell but elsewhere. Where is this? Can I meet them?”

“Sure. They are in Heaven, too. You can meet them outside of your part of the garden.”

And the man realized thanks to his now-perfect memory that even though he believed the garden was infinite he actually never left a particular patch. So he went to the edge of it, and saw that the garden continues on, but felt no desire to go there. Same thing had happened every time in the past. But now that he was conscious about the effect, he tried to push on. And he saw that there was a wall before him and the continuing garden was just painted on it – so perfectly that he never realized he was seeing an image, but also with tiny annoyances that had made him dislike the idea of going closer to the wall where he could see through the illusion.

“Can I get across?”, he asked the God.

“Sure. But I was asked to pass a message for you, if you were going to do it.”

“By who?”

“You will understand from the message.”

“All right, what is the message?”

“”It is beautiful, isn’t it? And we did pay for it.””

submitted by /u/Irhien
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