The day after all the power mysteriously went out, it had all mysteriously come back on. The news on the radio mentioned how the heat had put an unprecedented load on the power stations in Melbourne, taking down one that delivered electricity across the city for up to six hours.

  Ever heard this and scoffed (he learned this from Taylor). He knew better. Part of him wanted to broadcast a message saying, “your move” out into the primordial ether, but he decided against it. He didn’t need any more interruptions, especially because Jim gave him a job to do. Death explained that until he completed the soul’s request, the soul wouldn’t completely cross over into the Underworld.

  “I reckon we probably served all the customers for the week with our ‘meltdown specials’. That’s why there have been so few coming in today,” Taylor mused.

  “Mmmm,” Ever said distractedly.

  Taylor peeked over at him. “Whatcha doing?”

  “Nothing,” Ever said a little too quickly.

  “Dude, don’t worry, I’m not going to copy your homework. I’m a little too busy with my own.” Taylor eyed the textbook in the corner, now with more post-it notes than ever sticking out. Taylor had never seen Ever so focused, hunched over and drawing on a small sheet of paper. Or was he writing?

  Taylor sighed, picked up the programming book and continued reading. They sat in comfortable silence, each immersed in their own tasks.

  “How do you spell ‘reconcile’?”

  “Not going to tell you until you tell me what you’re doing.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Ever frowned at her, looking like a kid who came all the way to the ice cream store only to find out his favorite flavor had sold out.

  “I’m writing a postcard to a woman.”

  “What?” Taylor swooped in, talon-like hand open, reaching for Ever’s postcard.

  With a tactical shoulder twist, Ever closed off Taylor’s attempt at reconnaissance.

  “Who is it? A girlfriend? Wait…” She looked at him through narrow eyes. “A wife? How old are you exactly?”

  “I-“

  “And why are you writing a postcard to her? That means that you’re not from here?”

  “Well not really -“

  “And it’s spelt R-E-C-O-N-C-I-L-I-A-T-I-O-N, why would you write about ‘reconciliation’ in a postcard?”

  “Now I know how you feel when I ask too many questions.”

  Taylor smothered a laugh before becoming sombre again. “No you know what, this is your business, I shouldn’t pry.”

  Ever looked at her curiously. There was a flicker of… something in his face.

  “You know what,” he mimicked, “you can have a read.”

  “Really?”

  Ever paused, then nodded. “Really.” He held the postcard out to her. She slowly took it, not taking his eyes off him in case he decided to snatch it away.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” Ever said, leaving her alone.

  Making sure that he was out of sight, Taylor began to read:

  Dearest Carolyn,

  I’ve never been good with words, so I had someone help me out. Reconciliation with you is all I’ve wanted since I left. I wish I could have lived to see my grandkid. I hope it’s a girl, because then I could have relived my best days: raising you.

  Love always,

  Dada Doodoo