A hot cup of tea, autumn leaves, and old books. Carolyn was in heaven. Better than heaven. She was right where she had always wanted to be, studying ancient literature in the Bodleian library.
Of course, it would have been better if she could have smelled the tea, tasted it, or touched the books. She had managed to hitch a ride with her twin sister, Marilyn. They had planned to come together. They always did everything together.
Come on, Marilyn, take a sip, Carolyn thought to her twin. I can almost taste it when you do. But Marilyn, as always, was oblivious to her dead sister’s presence. Instead, she turned the page of the book they were reading. Almost as good.
A teardrop fell, Marilyn barely catching it before it landed on the precious book. Oh no. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I’m right here. But Marilyn couldn’t hear her. Carolyn wrapped her hands around Marilyn’s, as she had done a hundred times since her death. She touched the teardrop and something — some alchemy — changed everything.
Marilyn’s eyes went wide as she saw her dead sister. She gasped, pulling away, then lurched forward in her seat, grasping to hug her, arms closing on empty air. “Carolyn? Are you here?”
But with Marilyn’s movement the connection with her tear was lost. She could no longer see or feel her sister. Carolyn shed a single, ghostly tear, letting it fall into her own palm. She reached out to grasp Marilyn’s hand, their teardrops mingling.
With a cry of joy, the sisters flung themselves into each other’s arms, careful to keep their hands clasped while fresh tears flowed down both faces.
I wrote this short flash piece after reading the first book of A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness. Much of the story in that book takes place in the famous Bodleian library, centering on a lost book. What can I say? Magic was in the air.
Great story.
Fantastic story.