Methods of Leaving For those who take the holy tomes literally a golden chariot must appear, with Gabriel or Krishna at the reins. For the modern but devout, an El-Al jet flies to some kind of Israel. The super rich, the A-list crowd, ascend a marble staircase for an invitation-only heavenly soiree. The desperate find their escape by handholds on a sewer wall, with a cast-iron cover scraping aside to let-there-be-light.. The self-doubters must shinny up a tall pole for one last test of nerve. The space cadets of Roswell, who are never really here, leave their telescopes to enter the hovering saucer that takes them to their leader. But most of us prefer the warm heavenly glow, and seeing long forgotten faces growing ever closer— while strolling arm-in-humerus with the black-robed skeleton. Or does the world shed its dead, like a drenched dog shaking drops from its fur?