Poets Goodbye Crossword Novels & Stories

"8 p.m. at the Grandview Hotel. Don’t be late." Just like that, she hung up. I exhaled slowly. Fine. One last meet before I disappeared forever.

The taxi rolled through the bustling streets. I leaned back in the seat, sunlight pouring through the glass and warming my face, yet I felt numb to its gentleness. The warmth I once knew had been buried along with my mother and baby. The driver, an elderly man with silver hair, glanced at me through the rearview mirror. After a pause, he said softly, “Don’t look back, sweetheart. Look ahead.” He spoke the words I hadn’t dared to say aloud: “Look ahead”.

"I'm done paying for Ward 306 this month! And if the patient kicks the bucket, don't come begging me for a dime!" The nurse on the other end sounded shocked. "You mean Jessica Harris's mom in Ward 306? Didn't you hear? She passed away yesterday..."

Just as I was stewing in my frustration, my phone buzzed with a message from Sean. "Look outside." I was confused, so I texted back a question mark, but he didn't respond. I got up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. A second later, someone on the dark beach lit a line of fireworks. One after another, they shot into the sky. The explosions shattered the quiet night, and somehow, the noise calmed the storm inside me.

My spirit was growing lighter, fainter, dissolving like morning mist. The debts of this life were settled. I turned and walked into the cycle of rebirth. The wind brushed past the headstone, carrying away the last trace of my presence. Claire. This life is over. We will never meet again.

There was nothing to say that the silence did not already hold. They arrived at a train depot. Not the modern terminal with digital announcements and fluorescent efficiency. An older structure, brick and iron, decommissioned decades ago, now housing only pigeons and rust. The fog had rolled in from the harbor, thick and silver-gray, erasing the distinction between pier and sky. "This is where we cross," Eliana said. They entered through a broken door. The interior was a cavern of shadows and dripping moisture. The tracks remained, disappearing into the mist beyond the platform edge. And seated on a wooden bench, as if waiting for a locomotive that would never arrive, was a figure.

In the middle of all the voices and celebration, I quietly said, "I do." A month later, on an ordinary night, Dwayne and I lay tangled together in bed. A call came in from an unknown number. I picked it up without much thought. Brandon's voice came through. He sounded sick, his voice thick. "Congratulations on your wedding." I lifted my eyes slightly. "I don't need your well wishes." His voice grew heavier, like something was breaking inside him. "I'm sorry." I hung up. It was too late. The next day, the news reported that Brandon had jumped to his death.

The gifts probably would not run out until the boy started elementary school. Among them lay a bouquet of white roses. Tucked inside was a card with no name, only five simple words: "Wishing you peace and joy." Nissa quietly picked up the flowers and placed them in a vase after they entered the apartment. She no longer resisted Benjamin's presence. Or rather, she learned to accept everything this world had to offer, Benjamin included. And everyone else. She believed that people are simply fleeting passersby. Instead of resisting life with pain and bitterness, it was better to let go and face it all with peace.

"Lost in your drama? Drop the sob story." Grief overflowed, and my vision swam. "Wish it was fiction." I yanked the suitcase back and bolted. Her taunt echoed. "Stay gone since you're so tough! We'll pretend you're six feet under!" I paused, wiping my tears. As they wished, I would die out there.

It was a bad habit I needed to curb. "Ms. Rivers, this is the financial report for the season. Please take a look at it." "Theros, is it true that you're married?"