Alexandre was not thinking of death anymore for he did not have too. He was dead. He could not remember how he had died but he thought that it should not matter. Being dead was not how Alexandre had ever thought of it. It was like flying, but underwater. The water was murky, but it could be seen through. It spun as well, in a circle, a triangle, every shape known to man. Alexandre was being pulled this way and then back that way but it was not uncomfterable. Almost like floating but being unable to breathe. Of course he did not have to breathe anymore but it was a little annoying. He was moving towards the center of the spiral, slowly but surely he would make it.
The "Will of God." as the Pope had put it had not been right. Why would God will such awful things? He could and would ask himself thousands of times but he would never find an answer. For now he would stick to finding his way down this lonely road to Heaven.