Not all those who wander are lost.

      But I sure as heck am.

      Of course, to be lost, one has to have tried going somewhere else. Cela racked her brain but had not a single memory of where she was, how she got there, or if she was going anywhere in the first place.

      What was apparent was this place was not normal—the sky above glittered with hundreds of thousands of stars and even the Milky Way penetrated the darkness. The velvety blackness lay like a blanket in the cloudless heavens; the rustle of the wind absent, a certain stillness to the air. On both sides lie flat fields of thick grass stretching to the limits of the horizon. The smell of dew and oak drifted from the thick line of trees that bordered the area. Down the center lies a smooth, paved path of concrete, dotted by a series of lampposts. However, only a single lamppost was lit, with a bench and sitting figure bathed in soft yellow light. Walking toward the stranger, they appeared to be cloaked in black, with galaxies dotting the robe more radiantly than a jewel-encrusted crown.

      “Excuse me?” Cela asked in a much quieter voice than intended, “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know where I am?”

      The cloaked stranger sat still for a moment, then slowly turned their head. Their robes obscured their face.

      “Hm. I didn’t realize the living could see me…”

      “The ‘living’?”

      “Yes, you’re most certainly alive, and you’re not due for a while, it appears.”

      “Wait, what?! Who are you? What are you talking about?”

      The stranger remained silent, continuing to study her. Somehow they gave off an air of other-worldliness—like they knew way more than any normal person should.

      “I have many names: ‘Anubis’, ‘Thanatos’, ‘Morta’, ‘Yama’, ‘Hel’… but you may call me ‘Death.’”

      Their voice was calm and mellow. It defied labels—a voice not of a woman, man, elder, child, or anything tangible. Their voice didn’t even sound like it came from a mouth…it just came from everywhere and yet nowhere.

      “You expressed confusion as to why you are here. I do not know why, but perhaps it is a blessing in disguise—care to sit with me?”

      Suspicious but intrigued, Cela complied.

      Upon closer inspection, galaxies on the stranger’s black robes appeared to move ever so slightly, stars twinkling just like the ones in the heavens. “Death” finally noticed Cela’s stares.

      “You seem transfixed on my form?”

      “Ye-yeah. It’s, uh, it’s- beautiful.” The words stumbled out, but she pushed on, forcing herself to avoid looking at the robes, “But don’t change the subject! Who are you actually? Where am I? Why do I not remember how I got here?”

      “I have not attempted to deceive you for I am truly ‘Death’. Second, I believe we are in a Time-Pocket—a small pocket of time where things are a bit altered, which might also explain the lapse in memory.”

      “Assuming you are, in fact, the physical manifestation of death, shouldn’t you be, you know, dead?”

      “The body and the physical are the only things that die, so to speak. I am neither dead nor alive, rather a facet of the universe. A ‘manifestation,’ if you will.”

      “So, like a soul?”

      “Not quite… 'soul’ is just one of the many words living beings use to describe the part of them not quite physical, but not entirely non-physical. But whichever term you use—Atman, Anatta, Tao—it all means the same thing.

      Even if they weren’t totally messing with her head, sure, why not humor them? Might just be lonely. People do weird things all the time when they’re lonely.

A small insect flew into the lamplight, but instead of the typical moth, the insect glittered amethyst and silver, with one end glowing similarly to the way fireflies do. The sight of the winged jewel circling around her chatting partner was memorizing. Then, they slowly lifted their hand to allow it to land. Cela gasped as the flying insect promptly died and crumbled to dust. Death sighed wearily as if this always happened.

      “You, uh…you good?” Cela asked tentatively.

      “So many…so many who didn’t deserve their end.” Death huffed; their shoulders hunched.

      “Wait, so Death actually mourns people?”

      “Of course I do.”

      Should I really ask this? “Just out of curiosity, who?”

      Death crossed their arms to think. Oooh, shouldn’t have asked. After what felt like an hour, Death finally responded.

      “Intriguing question…I don’t believe I’ve ever gotten that one before…I’ve indeed witnessed many deceased, but I’ve never really felt a sense of mourning or pity for them. Despite what you may think, night and darkness and un-aliveness is the natural state of the universe. Life and light are anomalies in the vast cosmos—a gift really. Of course, many lives are difficult to endure and I find myself rooting for those that fight in their utmost to savor that oh so fragile, temporal gift…” Death paused and looked off into the distance, “however, there are those whose lives, one way or another, have broken their spirits. Those whose souls have crumpled while their bodies still stand. It is them, I suppose, that I mourn.”

      Silence lingered in the air. As weird as the conversation was, there was truth in Death’s words—everyone is so afraid to die, but it’s truly heartbreaking when someone wants to. Feeling awkward for making Death sad, Cela tried to brighten things,

      “But they can get help! No matter what’s going on, they can get help and there’s nothing wrong with that.

      “That’s true. Very true.”

      “And it only tells the rest of us to find the joy in the things that make life worth living. So, what’s a good life in the eyes of Death itself?”

      Though perplexed, Death seemed happy for the change in tone, again thinking long and hard.

      “Find yourself a group of people—big or small, family or friends—and go out and find what makes your life so special.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “I said before that life is temporary, so go out and experience it. Laugh together, cry together, fight together- and go it alone when you need to. All the instability and unknowns matter little in the end just as long as you have someone, even just one, to share it with. The thing about this universe is that there is no meaning to it. You can give meaning, no matter if it comes in the form of a god, multiple gods, your life’s work, or even yourself. You can even give it no meaning at all. But when you decide what that meaning is, the end of your life is little in comparison.”

      “Huh.”

      The two sat there in silence for a while longer, Cela trying to process everything. The night sky with no light pollution to disrupt it was beyond description; Cela couldn’t help but smile in awe,

      “So, is that what the ‘other side’ looks like?” Cela joked.

      “Not always, but close. And there’s plenty more.”

      “Shame I have to wait ‘til I die to see it.”

      “Something tells me this is not the last time we will cross paths like this.”

      “I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing but, sure, why not? I need friends anyway.”