Soon

           Joe Stuart-Kahn mustered the energy to shake his bald head. Old bones groaned. Tired and stiff. As the hospice room faded around him, he kept his focus on his husband.

           He used the smile on Adnan's wet cheeks as a beacon. It never faltered. After a long life together, Joe knew every facial expression, had memories for every laughter and frown line. But those memories were fading, like the strength in his body.

           He could no longer feel the photos scattered on the blanket over his frail legs, barely skin and bone. He could barely see the old, upended chocolate tin, the envelopes from the development shop, or the iPad, open to photos, no kbs left to squeeze in one more picture.

           His life before this room was slipping away, but he held tight to his final request. He wanted to look back on their perfect day.

           Though he'd long forgotten why their first moments together had to be kept secret, couldn't recall the decades of perseverance, nor commemorate the pride he discovered in the community they assembled, one moment remained fixed. A core memory that had always been closest to his heart.

           But he couldn't communicate that memory to Adnan, who grabbed pictures, holding them up. Smile shrinking, frown lines growing every time Joe shook his head.

           Joe lifted up a weak hand, his nails freshly painted as they always were, and reached for his husband. He did not want these final moments together to be as hard as their first.

           Joe recognised the apology on Adnan's face, but he melted it away with a smile. For a brief moment, they were two teenage boys again, getting pleasure from a flirty look at a time when even that was an enormous risk.

           “Which one, my love?” Adnan croaked, under the effort to keep his voice light.

           Joe tried to speak, but his voice was one step ahead, and had gone.

           His life with Adnan was nothing but feelings now. The physical memories themselves were hidden behind thought processes that his body had no strength to perform.

           Anger from petty arguments, frustration from differing opinions, and any sadness he'd carried with him, were being stripped away, until only love remained. He knew it was for Adnan, but not all of it. Something was missing. Another love he couldn't bring to mind, but knew was significant.

           It had a texture that felt soft, but also cold and wet. It was a love that burned bright, yet not for long. Joe couldn't get the memory to come into focus. All he could recall was the night sky, though he couldn't remember why that was so important.

           A muscle memory kicked in. He lifted his hand out of Adnan's, made a pincer movement with his thumb and his other fingers stuck together as one.

           Joe watched as the movement sparked a reminiscent look on Adnan's face. He moved photos to the side, swiping them off the bed, picking through holidays and parties, family and friends, parades and community and so much love.

           Until he paused.

           Joe knew what his smile meant. Adnan had found it.

           A little booklet of printed photos. The title at the front read 'Adnan, Joe and Starlight at Balaeph Cabin, Bewster Beach 1988.'

           Joe smiled as Adnan turned the page and showed him the photo. Under the words 'Starlight made a new friend, before we'd even unpacked' a picture of a black and white, medium sized, fluffy dog, bum in the air, front legs on the floor, staring at an enormous crab.

           There was the love. The best girl they'd ever known. The most faithful companion, who remained by their sides, though family and friends had not.

           Adnan got on the bed beside Joe and flicked through the pictures of them on walks, picnics under trees, paddling in the sea, and candids by a roaring open fire in a stone fireplace.

           Near the back, Adnan folded the booklet backwards, so one photo could be seen.

           Joe's final request.

           A perfect day.

           The two of them. Younger. Halfway through their life together, arms around each other. Starlight sat between them. All looking up at the camera, outside a beautiful log cabin.

           The smiles on their faces now, were so bright, it was almost like the forty-something men in the photo hadn't aged a day.

           Joe tore his eyes away to meet Adnan's. His mouth without the strength now to even try and form words.

           “I know. I love you too.” Adnan whispered, foreheads touching. “See you soon.”

           With Adnan's kiss on his lips, and a perfect day filling his mind, Joe closed his eyes. The world slipped away into a soft-pink light.

           The soft-pink grew warmer. Became red, filtering to orange then yellow. Growing bright green, into blue, then purple and finally a bright white light for a mere second, before fading away.

           Nothing, became objects. The fading light picking up chairs, walls and a rug underneath Joe's feet.

           He is surprised to find himself standing. Even more surprised to see his feet are bare. He watches as his legs come into focus, his torso, arms and hands too. He doesn't realise he wasn't here moments ago, but as wooden walls and an enormous stone fireplace appear around him, he knows wherever he had been, this is somewhere new.

           Or is it?

           Memories reform in his mind, fresh as the day they were created, but he's distracted by his reflection in a large mirror, edged in driftwood.

           “I'm... Oh! How wonderful.” He grins as he watches himself run fingers through the thick, golden hair on his head. He doesn't need to move forward, he can see perfectly in the reflection how healthy he looks. How strong he stands. How plump the skin on his face is. How much meat there is on his bones.

           He's about to sigh, disappointed, until he lifts his hands up to his face. Sure enough, his nails are painted.

           He looks like the 82 year old man he was, before the sickness took hold. He feels as good as he looks too. He dances around the living room, enjoying the feel of the deep-pile rug between his toes, in front of a roaring fire.

           The smell of the burning, crackling oak in the grate, the tea and biscuit tray for two, the boots and dog lead by the front door, are all exactly as he remembers. He wants to lay by the fire. He wants to sink into the couch. He wants to run outside and see if he's right about how many steps it is to the beach, but he can't do any of that just yet.

           He knows there's something to do first, and though he can't explain why, he knows there's someone he needs to speak to.

           As he turns around, he isn't surprised or scared by the figure, dressed in very pale lilac, who greets him with a smile.

           “Welcome” they say. Their features fluidly moving from masculine, to feminine, to everywhere between and beyond. Their eyes remain warm and inviting. Their feet stay still. Waiting patiently.

           “Did I...? Yes, I died, didn't I!” Joe says. Not sad, but rather like when you wake from a dream and remember it hadn't been real. “Are you an angel?”

           “Is that the word you want to use for me?” They wait for Joe to nod, “then yes, please take a seat.”

           “The three of us came here, oooh many moons ago. Ended up being our final holiday with our beautiful girl. Best time ever. Is this... I guess, Heaven? Akhirah?”

           The Angel looks up from the small, translucent glass square in their hands. “Almost” they say, as their delicate fingers swipe up, and they continue to take in whatever it is they can see. “Joe Stuart-Kahn. Born 1942. Married to Adnan. It says you met in 1960. All correct?”

           Joe nods, pausing to clarify in his head. More surprised he can remember all the dates so clearly and so easily. He is sure things hadn't been so simple to recall before he arrived here, but he can't explain why.

           “Any unfinished business?” the Angel asks.

           A huge smile spreads across Joe's face. He shakes his head. “No,” and he knows, without a shadow of a doubt that, that is true. He'd had all the time he needed. Done all the things that mattered. He is sure there was nobody, not even Adnan, who he'd forgotten to say all the words he had to say, to.

           He is ready. More importantly, he is proud and grateful to know that forwards is the direction he needs to go.

           “In that case” the Angel says, gesturing for Joe to stand. “Oh, wait. Oh. Oh! Ohhhhhhh!”

           The glass square almost falls from the Angel's fingers as they bring it closer to read.

           For a split second, the fire almost flickers out.

           “What? Am I in the wrong place?” He wobbles as he stands, but the Angel reaches out a slender arm, to hold Joe with so much strength and tenderness.

           “You're in the right place Joe. Usually someone like me takes you onwards.... but....”

           “But?”

           “But, well this is unusual and it seems there's nothing anyone can do to stop it, but... she's not listening to a single soul, and she's coming to get you herself. She's ever so excited.”

           The Angel gestures to the front door, which opens.

           “Who? It's not the girl I met before Adnan is it? Please tell me it's not my ex.”

           The Angel chuckles, shakes their head, encourages Joe to step outside.

           Salty air fills his lungs. He counts as he goes. One, two, three, four, five, six, “Seven” he says triumphantly. He had recalled it correctly. Seven steps and his bare feet touches the sand. Warm sun on his skin. Gentle waves crash on the shore barely a hundred metres away.

           Joe can't see anyone on the beach. He turns to ask the Angel who he is meant to be meeting, and is taken in by the front of the log cabin, exactly as it had looked in the photo.

           “Joe.” The Angel points off into the distance, the beach seems to go on forever.

           Joe follows their finger, and steps forward, peering into the distance at a small black dot.

           As Joe gets closer, the black dot gets bigger. Becomes black and white. As it picks up speed, sand sprays everywhere. Getting stuck in its fluffy fur does not slow it down.

           Within seconds it crosses a distance not possible anywhere else. As Starlight skids to a halt, Joe crouches down to greet her. Her tail a blur. Her tongue licks away his tears.

           They fall onto the sand, Joe not having eyes for anything else to notice his face and body now look like that forty-something man from the perfect holiday photos.

           Laughter and barks fill the air as Joe and his very best friend are back in each-others arms.

           “My beautiful girl, I missed you. Oh Star, I loved you so much. I'm sorry for what we had to do. Forgive me?”

           Starlight jumps up, spins in a circle, and sits. She looks at Joe, growls gently, then woofs.

           “She said,” the Angel begins.

           “I know what she said. So we didn't...?”

           Starlight barks once, tail wagging again. She licks Joe's face, runs off along the beach.

           Without even looking back, Joe sprints after her, his tears give way to laughter.

           The Angel smiles, no need to tell Joe where he's going, for he has his guide. They put their little glass square into a little pocket, and vanish.

           Only Joe and Starlight remain. Running. Laughing. Barking.

           Onwards.

           Leaving human and doggo footprints, side by side, in the wet sand.

The End?