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“Charlie picked up his Spectral Sour, and tipped its cherry back into his mouth. He chewed. Tasted. Licked his lip. And Anna blipped back into existence, her face streaked with phosphorescent tears, like someone had broken a glow stick. She looked surprised to be there. "Charlie?" she whispered. "How did you know?" he asked, voice reverberating with pain. "How'd you know I was really going to do it? I didn't even know." "I know you like a book, babe." "You always did." He nodded, sniffing. "Guess it's time for a new chapter." They gazed at one another with the electric intensity of an imminent goodbye. "Have an incredible life, Charlie. And when you're done, find me in the next one, okay?" She pressed her radiant mouth to his, fighting all the boundaries between them, time and space and life and death, to try to make him feel her there, the ghost of their love story, its arc complete.” — Daria Lavelle