Can I come over to your house? I’ll bring cake and she’s so beautiful. When she visits it’s just like it used to be and they talk about death and they make plans and they know. They just know.

It used to be more. I’m getting achy now. If I sit for too long, my back clenches and when I stand there is an almighty crack. Like thunder. He’s here now. And I take my cane and I walk with him.

She runs. He can barely keep up with her and her laughter trills behind her. One day you will have your own house and I will have mine and we will visit one another and always bring cake. Always.

Can we start over? Can we just keep breathing? Can we eat cake and make plans and laugh like waterfalls?

He trails his hand across her back. She leans into him and she knows that there is a smile on his lips. He squeezes her shoulder and she sighs.

I have a secret. But if I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh. No, promise. Alright, I got my first period. Mum says I’m a lady now. Do you think I’m a lady? Stop laughing!

Will you meet me? Will you come and find me and just lie down next to me? She nudges him and he chokes on his cake when he laughs and he says yes because they always knew.

They dig deep into the sand and there is sweat dripping down his back and his shirt is damp and her skin is sticky and gritty. There, do you see it? Quick, catch it, before it escapes!

Can we meet at the markets? You can bring her with you and people will look and if someone comments you can say five bucks, bargain! I’d like to try out the new cake stall.

I curl up in my bed and I listen to that sound and all I can do is cry. Just cry. Later, I pick up the phone and I call him and he listens with me too.

When they scatter his ashes there are no tears. She waits the appropriate amount of time and then she laughs. When I die, I want you to laugh. At my funeral, I want there to be laughter.

She is dancing in the rain because even though it is a cliché, it has to be done. Come and dance with me. One day we will be too old to dance and you will wish you had. Right now. Tonight.

Are you my friend? Are you my best friend? Are you my super special always and forever best friend? Then you can have a piece of my birthday cake.

That’s the first Christmas beetle of the season. Don’t you remember the plans we used to make? See it? Just there by the window and they were good plans. They were great.

He’s here for me now and I walk with him and you’re going to be there. Waiting for me.

I hope there’s cake.