Snow, soft and white, blanketed every inch of the forest, yet snowflakes still fell incessantly upon the ground. The woods were perfectly still, save for the crunching of footsteps made by a girl in a hood.

Her breath was visible as she climbed up the frosty hill, shading her eyes from the dazzling colour of the snow. Finally, she stopped at the very top with a sigh.

She knelt down, and with her bare hand, dusted the snow off of a gravestone. Without even looking at the inscription, she recited in a soft voice, “To live in the hearts of those we love is not to die.”

She paused for a moment, silently reflecting upon something, and then lowered her hood. Perched in her auburn hair was a single red rose, which she gently removed and dropped onto the grave.

“Happy Birthday, Little Brother,” she said aloud, letting her gaze settle on the flower. “How old are you now? Twelve? Wow.” The girl let out a breathless laugh. “You’re growing up so quickly.”

She paused to tuck a wisp of stray hair behind her ear. “I’m doing okay. Winter is always a little bit difficult, but I like seeing the snow. It reminds me of you. Do you remember that snowman we built, about six years ago? He was the ugliest thing on the face of the Earth. Of course, I couldn’t tell you that back then. You adored him.”

“In case you were wondering, Miles is doing fine. He’s still eating everything he gets his hands on. He’s seventeen times fatter than he was when we found him, which is good, but I miss having a kitten running around the house.”

A single tear slipped down her cheek, but the girl hastily brushed it away. “I miss you. I know it’s been four years and that I should move on, but the house is so, so quiet. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” She stopped for breath and looked at the epitaph with pained eyes. Voice breaking, she whispered, “You weren’t supposed to join Mom and Dad yet. You were supposed to stay with me.

“I’m sorry for failing you.”

She dropped her head, burying her eyes with her sleeve. It’s no use, she thought. No amount of wishing will bring him back.

Suddenly, she heard a soft voice in her ear. A voice she hadn’t heard in five years. 

“It’s going to be okay, I promise. Please don’t cry. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes, and one day we’ll see each other again.”

The girl spun, and for a split second, saw the smiling face of an eight year-old boy. Then, as soon as he had appeared, he vanished, leaving the girl alone in the forest once again.

What’s the word?

For when the floating lightbulb

Glows above your head?

When you revitalize into life,

From the struggles you’ve faced being dead?

When you’ve figured it all out?

A golden, victorious moment,

And the excitement to just shout.

It makes you feel warm and proud,

And clears your vision like a sky,

Colors revealed by an unknown shroud,

That you never realized covered your eyes.

It melts away your panic, your fear,

All you anxieties just … disappear.

The name of it, I can’t recall …

Eureka!

I’ve got it.

By Anushka Yerramareddy

First one fell, and then another

And the tree was losing life.

He looked to his right, at his dying brother

And his friends; even his wife.

Then the wind blew the flakes

So far, far away.

Away from the clustered rakes

And the wind continued to sway.

So the barren tree stood,

So leafless and dying.

He was stripped of his golden hood,

And so he continued his silent crying.

By Anushka Yerramareddy

I first saw them on an evening stroll

They were quite a sight, I must say

Such that their beauty truly touched my soul

As the wind had made them sway.

At this moment, I came to a sudden halt

And I began to jump high, and higher 

You see, that sort of beauty was not my fault

And I began to jump, trying to touch the trees of fire.

They were so wonderful, so golden and bright

And all I could do was stare in awe

A camera could never capture that sort of light

As the leaves had no flaw.

Yet my height prevented me from doing so

And I stopped jumping higher

Then at last, I let go

I left them, my cherished, beloved trees of fire.

It was 10 AM when Dr. Browning watched the cadaver disappear into a metal tube.

Ten hours later, she was having dinner with him.

“So, what it like?” she asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“Which part?” the former-cadaver in question, Percival Wright, teased. “The dying part, the being dead part, or the coming back to life part?”

“All of it!” Dr. Browning grinned. “Your experience is remarkable.”

“You know, all the details are already in the report Dr. Metrich wrote. Asked me every question under the sun. And wrote down every answer.” Percival shrugged tiredly. Already, fatigue was wearing him down.

“I understand, but I would also like to collect information firsthand.” She smiled. “Excited to get back home?”

Percival nodded eagerly. “My girlfriend. She’ll be so excited to see me. Does she know I’m not dead?”

“She was the one who volunteered you, so she’s most likely been informed.” Dr. Browning looked down at her plate.

Percival’s face lit up. He reached into his pocket, presumably to get his phone, but looked confused when he came up empty-handed.

“Your phone was destroyed in the accident,” she explained.

Percival nodded slowly. “Dr. Metrich said my brother was driving?”

Dr. Browning held back a sigh; of course, Metrich would use the same cause of death each time. Constraints mattered, even if they were dull.

“You know, it’s quite strange. I … I don’t remember much of anything, but whenever someone says something, it feels like it clicks and makes sense.” He looked stricken for a moment. “I can’t remember my girlfriend’s name.”

“Maria,” she supplied.

“That sounds right, but … would it really matter what you told me?” Percival’s fingers danced on the table, making a weak attempt to mask his heavy breathing.

Dr. Browning cocked her head to the side, observing the way Percival’s eyelids seemed to be drooping, despite the fury that swept through the rest of him. “Is everything alright, Mr. Wright?”

“Nothing should make sense, but it does!” He stood up suddenly. “You – “

The table rattled as he fell against it.

Dr. Browning sighed as she watched the man collapse to the floor.

Fourteen hours later, Dr. Browning watched Percival disappear into the metal tube.