"That's my job." She hands over the receipt. "Well, I paged them but if you've got a last question or two there might be time for it."

"Hm - do dead people have hygiene needs similar to the living?"

"Yep. Less if you don’t eat or drink. Sorry it’s such a bargain bin afterlife."

"Oh, I mean, it's better than nothing, at least for the non-Hell end of things... what's the local currency and can you give me a loose idea of its buying power?"

"We use the mir but New Jerusalem uses the silver - it’s just called that, it’s not silver - anyway, a thousand mira will keep you comfortable for a year if you don’t want anything very expensive. I don’t remember the exchange rate."

Someone with cat ears and a tail walks up to them and says, "Someone wanted a ride?"

"If you're my escort to hang out in New Jerusalem while my residency applications are processed, yes."

"I am someone's ride to do that, anyway, and here you are." He holds out a hand.

Handhold.

Now they are in a field of mostly chickweed and crabgrass. There’s a truck stop nearby and a long highway leading in one direction to a very tall city.

"The city’s probably where you want to be and the buses going to it are free. It’s hard to show up closer than this, especially if you don’t live there."

"How often do the buses come?"

He checks a watch. He has several of them. "One’s coming in seventeen minutes."

"Okay, cool. Thanks for the ride."

"Any time." He disappears.

She sits on the ground by the bus stop. She's glad she's wearing clothes, but she doesn't have her writing implements on her, more's the pity.

A bus stops to invite her on.

"Hey. I assume there aren't a ton of lines here and this is definitely my bus?"

"Heading for the pearly gates," says the driver.

"Are there literal pearly gates?" She finds a seat.

"Sure are!"

Is there anyone else on the bus?

Yep. Lady obsessively checking her reflection in a handheld mirror like she doesn't believe what she sees, pair of people arguing about Spider-Man, shellshocked person staring at nothing, barefoot person apparently enjoying the scenery, man at the very back deep in prayer. No one is visibly older than forty.

Stands to reason, probably people who die of old age don't just be old forever or some responsible person would have promulgated a "leave a beautiful corpse" meme with more legs.

She waves at the barefoot scenery-enjoyer.

They wave back cheerfully.

She doesn't actually have anything she yearns to say to a random person so if they aren't going to start a conversation then she, too, will look at the scenery.

Fields. Low rolling grassy hills. Flowers. Occasional trees. Occasional farms and orchards that become more common as they get closer to the city. A huge glass and metal sculpture that might be some kind of icon.