Ticket 2405

The gong strikes. It’s midnight. The lady in the caged cubicle by the gates shouts out the next number on her list:

“Ticket number 2405”.

It was time to meet the gatekeeper. Admission was individual; everyone in line had been scored. 

One thought dominated: “Have I lived up to the mark?”

It’d been a long voyage to the gate. A car ride, two planes, and a long, 62 mile vertical elevator.

I had to get to the other side. 

The gatekeeper pulled out a paper scroll. It was stained and ancient, with a paleness that made it see-through.

I read it reverse:

“2405 is not ready yet, he has more to do before he is admitted to our land”.

My heart sank because I knew what was coming.

“You must go back. Turn around and take the blue and green elevator. You have done a lot, but you have missed some specific elements required for your unique admission”.

I smiled. 

Deep down I wasn’t surprised. I was kidding myself I was ready, when I’d yet to find the singular focus needed to get to the other side.