Tamanna had died. She had died for three full minutes until, for seemingly no reason, she bolted upright from the floor. Her fingers dug into the wet rug beneath her as air rushed back into her lungs. She remembered not knowing where she was until consciousness crept back in, allowing her to recall the awful circumstances around her death. But that was years ago at this point and she wasn’t going to think about that right now.

She sat in the small cafe sipping her lukewarm coffee. She hadn’t slept in days. Hardly anyone came to this cafe, mostly because their coffee was shit, but her friend worked here and she needed some company today. The circles under her eyes were dark, but her friend had seen her this way many times. Tamanna had an undeniable light about her, but a soft sadness that never seemed to pass. Phoebe Bridgers played over the cafe’s inadequate speakers as Alena, the barista, Tamanna’s friend, broke the silence. “How long has it been since you’ve slept, Tam?” “Three,” she replied with a small grin. It had been five. “How many has it really been?” Continued Alena. Tamanna hung her head, “five.” “Tam!… you know what I’m going to say… I just get worried.” “I know you do, and you know I appreciate that. You also know I can’t really help it.” “You say that, Tam, but you never tell me why. You never tell me what’s wrong.” Alena continued. “I wish I could explain.” Tamanna replied. Alena hugged her friend and Tamanna got up to leave. “See you later.”

Tamanna walked along in the coolness of the crisp morning, softly whistling the song that had been playing in the cafe when she felt it begin. Her fingers always tensed first, then her legs felt light. White flashes of light shot across her eye line. She usually had about 30 seconds to get somewhere her body would be safe before it took hold. She ran down an alley and jumped in a dumpster, knowing she would be gone for no more than 5 minutes. As she lost all control of her body her eyes turned a brilliant white and she was gone.

Tamanna was in an old apartment building. There was a woman sitting in a recliner. She had been watching Casablanca and her breathing was labored. Tamanna walked over to the recliner. She always tried to approach these people as gently as possible- they were very often old and very often afraid. As they should be- they were about to die.

When Tamanna had died, the way she had died, something in the universe did not approve. A force. She had felt it embrace her. This force had no form, no shape, no voice, it was just a feeling. It cradled her and it had shown her all the good things she had done with her life. It showed her what she meant to others. It had been warm and cool at the same time. It had put her at the most at ease and comfort she had ever been. With her eyes closed she had smiled and turned her head in its direction. As she opened her eyes to look upon what was happening she felt a great power come over her and bright light had shown from her eyes. It was that exact moment she had bolted upright from the floor, leaving death behind. Since that day, since the day she had died, she had now been transported to the death beds of others.

She kneeled down by the recliner and took the hand of Mable Atbury. By doing so Tamanna saw all of Mable’s life, and Mable, just as Tamanna had, felt the force she was sensing, but not seeing, was good. Tamanna imbued Mable with the same ease and comfort she had felt when she had died. Mable, just 19 years old when the second world war broke out, had been a nurse. She had saved many, many lives. Tamanna showed Mable this. She showed her how happy those families lived on to be because of what she had done. She showed her all of her kindnesses, be them big or small. Including the effect she had on a mugger just three years prior, before she had ceased being able to walk, when she stood up to him for another. It had changed his life. Tamanna beamed her light as she embraced Mable, and even though Mable had outlived all of her friends, and had passed alone in her modest apartment, she was at ease. And she was happy. Mable Atbury had lived a good life. And with that, it ceased.

Tamanna’s eyes faded their bright whiteness back into the a lovely dark brown as they had been born. She sat up in the dumpster, knocked a banana peel off her shoulder and climbed out. Her feet hit the pavement and she continued her walk home. Tamanna had died cruelly, without hope, and too soon. A force in this universe had noticed and decided to intercede. Now she was tasked with comforting those who passed in unjust ways. But unfortunately everything must have its equal and its opposite. Unfortunately for Tamanna there was someone out there doing the exact opposite.