Published: 2025-08-31

James looked at his wife with disbelief; she was once again alive. He had tried everything from Haitian voodoo to alchemy, and nothing seemed to work, but now, somehow, she was standing before him, alive. Maria, James’s wife, suddenly died of illness when she was only 32. Since then, James spent all his waking hours trying to revive her.

There was no funeral for Maria; James refused to let her corpse rot, therefore he kept it in the house, frozen. At first, he only wanted to spend a little more time with his wife, even if she wasn’t alive anymore, but soon this longing became obsession, and with obsession came the idea of bringing her back.

James was neither a genius nor an ignorant man; he knew bringing people back from the dead was impossible, but he was willing to achieve the impossible to be with her wife once again.

There are stories of the dead coming back to life all over the world. From the tall mountains in South America to the African jungle, passing through East Asia and its thousands of years of history. Stories of the dead coming back to life are everywhere, maybe because no matter the place or the time, someone will long to see their loved ones again.

Maria stepped out of the ice bathtub. Her skin was pale, but soft to the touch; her eyes, big, black, and penetrating; and her expression calm like that of a Buddha. She approached James with grace and delicately put her hand on his left cheek. She smiled.

“Is it really you?” James said.
“It is I, my love. Don’t you recognize me?”
“I could never forget you.”

James embraced her into his arms and broke down into tears. Maria smiled and caressed his hair while resting her head on his shoulder. James wished this moment lasted forever.

“Did you miss me?” Maria asked.
“I did. Every single day and night. I wrote about you, I talked to you, I prayed for you. I cried for you. I did nothing but wish I could be with you again.”

Maria smiled.

“Come. Let’s sit together.” She said.

Maria walked to the living room, water dripping from her dress as she moved.

The house was exactly like she remembered. The same wallpaper as before, the same furniture in the same place, the same stains on the coffee table. James has kept their house exactly as she remembered it.

James came into the living room holding a couple of towels. He started to dry her.

“The house,” Maria said, “It’s just like I remember it.”
“I kept it like that. I didn’t want you to find it changed when you came back.”
“How long has it been?”
“Seven years.”
“I’d be almost forty by now.”

James dried her body with such calm, while Maria dried her hair with a smaller towel.

“You’d be thirty-nine, and I’d love you all the same. Even more.” James said.

Maria smiled.

James wrapped her in a blanket and kissed her on the forehead.

“Are you hungry? I can make—” James was cut mid-sentence.
“I’m here to talk to you, James. Come sit next to me.” Maria said.

James looked puzzled.

“All right.” He said while walking towards the sofa.

Maria put her hand on his cheek and looked him in the eyes, “I’m sorry, James. You have been hurting these past seven years, and I couldn’t be here to console you.” She said. “I just wanted—” Maria cut James mid-sentence by putting her index finger in front of his mouth.

“You have been clinging to something that could never be, James. I know you did it out of love, but you’re pale and skinny, and there’s sadness in your eyes. You gotta stop.” Maria said.
“What are you saying?”
“You and I don’t belong in the same world anymore. If I clang to the world of the living, there would be an imbalance. My time here has passed. By clinging to the world of the dead, you have achieved nothing but hurting yourself. You gotta stop.”
“I don’t need to mess with the world of the dead anymore. We are together now. We can stay like this.”

Maria shook her head.

“I cannot stay here. This body is not mine anymore, it belongs to the Earth, as it once did.” She said.
“You’re leaving me?”
“I’m not leaving you. I’m giving you the opportunity to live once again, to get rid of the sadness, to move on, James. Don’t worry about me, I’m not sad.”

James put his head between his legs and started crying. Maria hugged her and caressed his hair as if he were a kid. James kept shaking his head, unwilling to accept the fact that he would have to renounce the love of his life. They stayed like that until James fell asleep. One last word came out of Maria’s lips as a whisper in James's ear, “Goodbye.”

He woke up. Not on the living room sofa, but in his bed. He ran to the bathroom. The corpse was there, lying in the bathtub, filled with ice. It was all a dream. It never happened. He never talked to her wife.

James sat on the toilet and cried.

The bathtub was low on ice; better add another bag, James thought.

He walked to the kitchen. From the bathroom to the corridor, the corridor to the living room, the living room to the kitchen, and into the refrigerator. He took a bag of ice out and got out of the kitchen. In the living room, his slipper stepped on a puddle. He looked down. The living room floor was soaked with water, leading to the sofa, where there was a big water stain as if somebody had sat there. She was there.

James dropped the bag of ice and ran to the bathroom. “I’ll never see you again, right?” He said while looking at his wife’s corpse. He turned around and went to the bedroom, opened a drawer, and took out a gun. “There’s no reason to live then.” He said.

He put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

THE END.