Manal Khalil
2026
The sky was not golden as believers had imagined, but gray—like the mind of a philosopher. No throne, no rivers of wine. Only a vast hall, and a god seated upon a simple chair, reading from a transparent tablet. Believers of every faith stood in rows: Muslims in white robes, Christians with their crosses, Jews with their books. In a separate corner stood the atheists: scientists in lab coats, philosophers with weary eyes, ordinary people with calm faces.
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