Grace chewed nervously at the end of her pencil as she looked at the hefty folder labeled Casefile-05072B. It sat on her desk unopened, as it had since it arrived yesterday. She was procrastinating. It had been a while since she'd gotten a case and she'd been enjoying the freedom of being under-employed. There was a lot to do in Heaven when you had free time. She was partial to Nimbus Putt Putt herself. It was an elaborate course where one golfed through various obstacles set on different types of clouds. Very on-brand.

But today Grace would not be playing golf. Nor would she be shopping, doing yoga or any of her other favorite activities. Today Grace had to work. Everyone must do their part. The mantra echoed in her head. Heaven was like that. There were rules and you followed them. I mean, it was a small price to pay for paradise right? And everlasting life? And not burning for eternity? Grace thought so. So she stared at the file, pushing all the fun activities she could be doing out of her mind, and willed herself to open the damn thing. How bad could it be? It was just a case. Every lawyer in Heaven had to take cases. It was the way things were. And this was hers.

Grace gripped the manila folder with well manicured hands and with a dramatic sigh she flung it open and began to read.

Name: Joseph Campbell

Age: 30

Marital Status: Single

Sentence: Hero's Journey - Difficulty: EASY

Ah, so he was currently serving his sentence. It would be Grace's job to monitor his progress and ultimately present his case before a Judge (usually the regional presiding Angel served in such cases). She had been given his file, as it stood, to familiarize herself with it and begin to learn the details of his case. Grace rubbed her chin thoughtfully. The Hero's Journey had been a favored alternative sentence for purgatory level offenders in the last century or two, ever since Campbell himself had proposed it to the big guy upstairs.

Grace was not a fan. At worst, the journey perpetuated stereotypes of masculinity and patriarchy. It focused on a male power fantasy. A chauvinistic approach to morality. Might, in the case of the hero, was necessarily right. At best, the hero's journey showed that an individual excelled in personal growth. This was the meaning of the journey. To go to the deepest depths of darkness and come back, having changed. But Grace was skeptical. She preferred the old fashioned ways.

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She thought dreamily back to when All Soul's Day had held sway in heaven. The idea had been brought to God by St. Odilo Cluny in 993 CE. He proposed that those souls stuck in purgatory could be saved by prayer by those still on earth. Furthermore, his contemporaries started to take indulgences (money) from members of the clergy who wanted to pray for their relatives stuck up there between heaven and hell. Grace grinned. It had been an easy time to be a case lawyer. One merely had to count all the prayers and dollars a soul stuck in purgatory received, and if it hit the correct threshold… poof! They went to heaven. If the time limit expired and the threshold was not reached… bamn! Hell! Simple. Easy peasy. Now things were way too complicated. Simulations? Hero's Journeys? Three pound manila-folder case files? It was just too much.

A knock on her office door interrupted her thoughts and Grace looked up to find the smirking form of her colleague Jericho looking down at her. He always looked as though he was patronizing her, even when he said nothing. The tips of his well oiled and curled mustache quivered as he spoke: "Working hard, or hardly working?"

Grace stared daggers at the man. "The former, if you must know. It's a case. Hero's Journey. Some software developer with poor social skills and low empathy. Sound familiar?"

Jericho raised a delicate hand to his chest and feigned being stabbed. "Oh you wound me so, Grace." He replied mockingly. She rolled her eyes. Jericho walked into her office and she chewed her lip angrily. She had not invited him in. So presumptuous. There was such a thing called attorney-client privilege. Even whent he client had no idea about the attorney!

"What do you want, Jericho? Don't you have some code to write? A new virtual pleasure room to build? A sensorium sound system to optimize?"

Jericho shook his head. "You have me wrong Grace, I've been working on a new project. I'm building sims. For purgatorians. What's the name of the man in that case file…" he inched closer trying to read the paper she had on her desk but Grace was faster, closing the file and rising to her feet.

"It's none of your business Jericho, you know I can't tell you that!"

He folded his arms across his chest. "It's Valinor, isn't it? I know it is. Most new cases are running my sims. That's alright, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." His tone clearly indicated he did want her to tell him but that he would not press the issue, knowing that it was a dangerous line to break the law in Heaven. Silently the two appraised each other for a moment, a battle of the wills. Jericho clearly wanted to say more, and ask more, but was unwilling to put himself in a compromising position. Grace held fast, saying nothing.

FInally Jericho nodded. "I see you want to keep this private. Good… good. That is wise and it is what we should do." He turned to go but stopped just as he reached the door to her office, putting his hand on the frame. "One thing, Grace. Valinor is a complex and… difficult place. If you need… a hand. Just in understanding things. How they work. Let me know. This case may be more important than you realize."

And with that ominous warning he left. She stared. The bastard didn't even close the door on his way out.