Near the end you told me

You weren’t much for spirituality

I told you I felt the same

It was only a little lie

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I don’t expect anything after death

You said, once your children had left the room

I’d welcome a long, dark rest

That sounds nice, I replied

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And then when you exhaled, smiling

The electricity in the entire house went out

Out front, the streetlight coated us in yellow light

What am I supposed to think now

Sitting here in the near-dark?

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Marin Stratus (they/she) is a queer, neurodivergent writer of queer, neurodivergent speculative fiction and poetry. Their work is published or forthcoming in 4LPH4NUM3R1C and Eternal Haunted Summer. Marin lives in Colorado with their wife, a freckled rescue dog, and forty‑seven houseplants whose inner lives remain a mystery.

Explore their work and connect: https://linktr.ee/stratus

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Picture Credits: Raahima S.