Parametic Monologue

You were on your way home when you died. It wasn't anything remarkable, but it happened to be fatal. You'd just popped out of the house for a trip to the grocery store, you'd run out of flour for that chocolate souffle you were baking. It wasn't like you were particularly good at baking souffles, but that's somewhat besides the point.

Well, you got your flour, if it's any consolation to you. But then there was the accident. A car accident, completely unremarkable. The parametics tried their best to save you, but their efforts were fruitless. If it brings you petty comfort, the parametics all felt guilty for years because they couldn't save you. But your body was so utterly shattered...believe me, you were far better off just dying.
"Wha...what happened?" You asked, looking about. "Where am I?"

"You died," I said, matter-of-factly. I mean, I probably could have ben more delicate, but you're dead, so it hardly ought to matter to you.

"There was a...a car. And skidding," You said.

"Mmhm," I answered. This happened everytime, the intial confusion.

"I...I'm dead. I died?" You asked.

"Yup, but don't fret about it to much," I told you. "Everybody does. It's kind of what people do."

You looked about yourself again. There wasn't much there. Actually, to you, the place looked like a department store. "What is this place?" You asked. "Is...Is it the Afterlife?"

"If it would comfort you to think it is, then...Yes, this is the Afterlife," I said.

You looked perplexed. "Are you God?"

"Yup," I replied. "I'm God."

You seemed perplexed. To you, I didn't look much like a God. I just looked like department store janitor. Some vague figure standing there, with a mop. Actually, if you squinted, I kind of looked like that Morgan Freeman fellow.

"But...You're Morgan Freeman." You