By Noel Lorenz
Founder of Noel Lorenz House of Fiction (NLHF)
The doorbell rang in the middle of the night.
“I didn’t expect it to be you.”
“Come on in.”
“Hey! Why are you standing? Come in.”
But you didn’t move. Tears rolled down your cheek. I stepped toward you and put my hands on your shoulder, but it went right through your body. You were right there in front of my eyes, but I couldn’t touch you. It was frightening at first. I waved my hand through your body several times, but you weren’t there.
Dear, I realized it then! You were dead. Just at that moment, the lights went out.
I called out your name. I tried to hold you and hug you because I didn’t want you to go away like this. A few minutes felt like an hour. When the power was back on, your scarf was lying on the ground in front of me.
Sweetheart, today, twenty-five years later, I am still in love with you. I am writing this letter on the occasion of our daughter’s marriage. I am sure you will bless her. Now that she will leave tomorrow, all I hope is to meet you again someday soon. My responsibilities toward our daughter are all but fulfilled. I am free. Come meet me or take me with you. I can no longer bear the pain of separation from you.