“Excellent, excellent,” Mozart gurgled, clapping like mad!

“Wow, thanks Wolfgang,” I said in awe – my piano playing was being praised by one of the most absolutely greatest geniuses in the history of Music!

We were sitting on the porch overlooking Eternal Lake, bathed as it was in the permanent ethereal light of Afterlife.

“I haven’t asked you this,” Mozart said leaning back and docking his head against the lamp post, “but how did you arrive here?”

“It was a motorcycle accident,” I mumbled.

“Motorcycle?” Wolfgang’s eyes showed surprise.

“Oh, it was an accident on the road; I was riding a vehicle with two wheels,” I tried to explain.

“Yes, yes,” Mozart said frowning… “Roads are dangerous, you know. Never liked them myself.”

For a moment, we were silent.

“How ‘bout you?” I said.

Mozart smiled. “I was never too healthy,” he offered with an innocent smile. “A cold just got my insides and … puff .. the great composer was no more.

More silence.

Then Mozart smiled. “Let’s do some composing,” he said.