Shouted From the Rooftops

If I were to imagine what the afterlife would be like I would liken it unto the 4th floor of the JFSB. You know the scripture about your sins being proclaimed from the rooftops? I can picture a whole bunch of people ducking under doorways and around garbage cans and lamp poles as "Sara did not read the Terms & Conditions agreement before agreeing to them" boomed over the rooftops from the clouds. Or better yet, "Julianne lied to her doctor about eating 6 to 8 servings of vegetables a day" echoed between the buildings as the voice, which sounds like Morgan Freeman, continues to read off the list of sins from the rooftops.
As I walk down the 4th floor hallway, I duck into a reading room and whip out my phone as fast I can and pretend to be deep in phone conversation as Hutch walks by...whew, I missed him. I duck my head and see him turn the corner a ways down the hallway. With short, quick steps, I hurry down the hallway--my backpack bouncing in the awkward way backpacks do. Eeerrrch! Turn! Turn! Turn! I'm nearing Dr Wood's office, and I can hear her talking on her cellphone as she explains that she just walking out her door. I speed walk back down the hallway that I just did the awkward, backpack shuffle down..heading back towards Hutch. Curse this poorly designed building that is a single hallway wrapping in one, big block. There's no detours, there's no real doorways to duck under. Booming ahead of me, more like Batman than Morgan Freeman, is the F...F...F...that mars my transcripts from Hutch's Advanced Writing Literary Criticism class. Behind me is screaming my terrible semester of Early British Literature where I accidentally slept through that semester. No matter where I run in this labyrinthine building, my English "sins" are being shouted from the rooftops in this postmortem afterlife of the JFSB.