Something Magic This Way Comes by Sarah A. Hoyt Page B

along the route, dressed up in brightly colored costumes and extravagant bodies in preparation for some party or another. I see a twenty-foot man lope carefully over those below. They look up and scream in delight. He leans down and waves at them.
    I look back at my dark apartment, feel the wave of loneliness reach out and grasp me by the heart. I turn away again. I don’t want to be here. I’m tired of being alone.
    “You don’t have to be alone.”
    I whirl around. “Who’s there,” I snap. “Show yourself.”
    “I cannot until you give me presence. It is this act that moves you from the old into the new.”
    I take a step forward, relaxing slightly. “You’re my Angel.”
    “You may call me that. Some of your kind find it helps them accept us. I am whatever is most comfortable to you.”
    “What do you want?”
    “Only for you to be happy. I have watched you this past year. Watched your unhappiness shrink your soul when it should be so full of life. There is a time for mourning, Dana, and a time for letting go.”
    “Don’t you dare tell me when I can stop mourning!”
    I storm into the apartment, searching for a focus for my anger. “I loved him! We were together our whole lives and now he’s gone!” I scream. I collapse onto the couch. “Why couldn’t you have come a week earlier?” I ask, sobbing.
    Silence. Then, “Do you think he would want you to live like this?”
    “Go away.” Softly.
    “Think on it, Dana. I will be here. Always.”
    * * *
    Later that night I follow the road to Erin’s house, walking with a unicorn on my left and a brass robot on my right. I get strange looks from those who pass me, dressed as I am in jeans and a t-shirt. Normal clothes for a normal body. Nobody is hostile. They simply regard me with a mixture of sympathy and patience.
    Erin pops out of thin air before me. She looks around, as if to see where she is.
    “Hi,” she says.
    “Hi. I came to see you off.”
    “Thanks. I’m actually kinda nervous. Weird, huh?”
    I smile, and it feels strange. “Not really, Erin.”
    We reach the city center. Erin stops walking. “Here,” she says.
    “Here?”
    “So everyone can see.”
    “Oh.” I can’t believe it’s so soon. I thought we’d have a chance to talk, to say our goodbys properly.
    Erin comes forward and hugs me. I hold on tight, fighting an irrational urge to never let her go, to keep her with me forever.
    I step away. “Remember to come back.”
    “Of course I will. I’ll never leave you.”
    She was crying. “Hey,” I say softly, surprised at her show of emotion. “I’ll be okay. I’ve survived this long.”
    “Try to be happy, Dana.”
    “I’ll try.”
    Erin steps back and spreads out her arms. “Goodbye, Dana,” she says, and slowly floats upward, in a nimbus of golden light. Someone shouts and points, and soon everyone in the city center is focused on the slowly receding figure. After a few moments others join her, spreading their own arms and following her into space. I strain my eyes against the black backdrop and watch until she disappears, a golden star rising into the Heavens.
    A flight of red dragons flies past, bellowing fire and slowly flapping ponderous wings. I glance at them, look back to see if I can spot Erin, then turn and walk away.
    I intended to go home, but I find myself outside the graveyard. There are lights all around it, little globes of orange like miniature suns, chasing away the shadows where fear might dwell. I’ve visited his grave every day over the past year.
    I don’t go in.
    I stand outside on the pavement resting my head against the chipped green paint of the metal fence, staring in the direction of a headstone I can’t see through my tears.
    * * *
    I dream of Alex that night.
    I see him lying on a hospital bed. I see me sitting at his side holding his hand. “Promise me,” he says, “Promise me you’ll move on. That you won’t let this change you.”
    The me by his side doesn’t