Revenir | Epilogue

Hello and welcome to the Fiction Section of The Untangling. Just like in my main publication, these stories centre on themes of identity and what it means to be human. Main genres are literary and slipstream fiction and fantasy written with a lyrical and poetic writing style.

You are reading a standalone story from Revenir, an anthology I co-wrote with my son, who died in 2021. The stories explore the human experience and delve deep into themes of love, loss, and the search for meaning. Written in a haunting, lyrical style and set in a single fantasy world, this collection is for readers looking for character-driven stories with strong emotional resonance.

Her. My everything. My soul. I’d write her a letter every day until we meet. From a need to make up for not being with her in all other ways possible. That way we’ll create a thousand strands, great and small, that will link us together. Then we’ll be so close that it would be impossible for either of us to recreate such closeness with anyone else. And it will seem like we’re together until we can be together.

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If you imagine our threads woven through each other, the thousand strands braiding into one, then you can imagine when one half of that is ripped forcefully away, that you can probably see the frayed ends. And no matter how you try to bind the edges, to tuck them in, to hide them, anyone looking at that piece of cloth will see and know that something dreadful happened there, that there was a part torn away, that it was once whole and is no longer. That is what we are to each other.

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If someone were to ask how, months after I should have ceased, I still continued, why after having suppressed my existence for that very moment, I was still here, I’d have no choice but to visualize a string connected to mine, stronger than all the other, now broken ones. Held together only by her and me in this tug of war holding each other alive. I feared having to leave before my time, not for me, but for her. The breath of someone I held most dear to me.

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My life is like a river current, flowing toward a certain destination. At times, things happen that ebb the flow – perhaps a rock fall, sometimes enough to dam the river for a short while, sometimes a long while. But sooner or later the water cuts through and it goes on. When we met, he became a rockfall, stopping the course of the river, but the water continues, trickles through the cracks, weakens its foundations. Sometimes I think, despite the delays, it’ll still keep going toward the same destination.

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Wish I was a bigger rock and could stem the flow completely from the other side. While the thought of a waterfall to the afterlife sounds morbid but beautiful, I’d rather she not cross over of her own accord. Want to make sure she doesn’t get there with or without me. There are times, where I wish we didn’t know each other. Not because I regret this, but maybe because I hold this so dear, and it hurts me when anything hurts her.

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I feel like whatever thread is still tethering me to the world is frayed and breaking. If I just let it be, don’t try to save myself, surely that wouldn’t count against me, would it? But if he’s still here, then I have to stay. I have to stay for him.

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I wish I could express the visualization of her my mind conjures. But it’s no use. I’d be stuck forever. Sometimes it’s like I can hear the last grains of sand dwindling down the bottom half of my hourglass. Can see it so clearly in my mind, so real and present. Really need her to know, need her to know in words not worth anything more or less or anything than what they are meant to represent; that I love her, I love her more than anyone I have encountered and more than anyone in my life. I wish I could express what I see. I wish I could express what she is to me, but my mind is deteriorating. And words are too limiting. Light has never been so far yet near, and although it is just out of reach, I can make out the direction, and I can sketch out a route, and it’s only because of her.

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Endlessly connected for so long. Our lives wrapped together as one. I am your soul, you like to say. I am yours and you are mine.

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Who am I? I didn’t think I would ever find myself. But I know. I’m my fairy’s beloved. Never forget. That I am hers and she is mine. I’m hers forever. I’m hers and she’s mine. I love her so much, so much, so much. She knows, she knows. I love her, love her so much, I can’t. I want to make sure she knows even if she already does; she’s my everything, my everything.

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I wanted mornings together, and our hands learning each strand of hair and, sharing the same air, in, out, in, out. I wanted presence, not time waiting for when I can join him. But my fingers can’t find his now, though he promised and promised to never let me go. I write him a letter every day, though it feels wrong, wrong, wrong, just like every sentence is only a repeating chorus of muddled memory from a faltering pen. Him. My soul.

Thank you for reading our short story collection.

This has been such a labour of love, beginning from early 2021 to today. I want to thank you for joining me on this journey, for reading and loving these stories. Your likes, comments, and shares have encouraged me more than you know.

This book is Ren’s legacy.

It was the project he most wanted me to complete and publish on his behalf after he was gone.

from Ren’s notes that I inherited

Thank you, Inklings, for making this dream come true. It has been a heavy process, though cathartic and necessary. I’m grateful for the honour of being a guardian of these stories.

Don’t worry, though. It’s not over yet!

Publication plans

I’m in the revision stages for this anthology, working with my editor to get it publication ready. Even if you’ve been reading along, I’ve revised and expanded the stories, so they’re actually quite different now.

My cover designer is booked for August! I will be super excited to share the book cover reveal with you later in the year.

The book will be released on Kickstarter as an exclusive special edition first. It will have foil details, custom endpapers and sprayed edges, to start. This edition will feature a bonus story I’m not publishing anywhere else!

My current stretch goals include a ribbon, custom slipcase, internal illustrations.

The special edition will never be released again. I am creating this for you if you:

• love aesthetic books that will look beautiful on your bookshelf,

• want a book you can pass on to your children,

• want to be one of the few special guardians of this limited edition,

• want first dibs on this short story collection.

Does this describe you? You won’t want to miss your chance. I’m planning to run a 17-day Kickstarter campaign, which will be your only window of time to purchase one. Once these are gone, they’re gone forever.

6-12 months after the Kickstarter fulfillment, I’ll be releasing a normal edition in e-book and paperback to retail stores. The content will mostly be the same, but with a slightly different cover, sans the bonus stories.

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As many readers have said, these stories are transformative. They touch on something deep within all of us, but especially those of us who have experienced or longed to experience a deep soul connection.

Also, almost every one made

Imola

cry. Yes, I’m using that as an endorsement. :D Here are some more words from readers:

It took me a while to read through this, only because each story evoked various emotions and I had to take breaks. It is poignant, riveting, and provocative. You will be challenged to think deeply about love and loss, of triumphs and heartbreaks. You won’t regret picking this book up to read.

—Endora Pan

These beautifully woven tales speak of heartache, longing, love, and loss. Every story evokes powerful emotions. For anyone who has ever lost a loved one, this book is a poignant reminder of the joy that comes from bonding with another person and the light that remains in the memory of that soul.

—Joanne L.

I was unprepared for my heart to be moved so thoroughly in the short, yet windingly beautiful journey I was taken along. The works speak of immense grief, the unconquerable feeling of being adrift in a world that moves at a speed too rapid to measure, the common man’s despair at the threat of being lost, hurt, forgotten or destroyed by the fickle nature of mankind.

Yet, you are coaxed, that not all is worst, that if the world is a spider web of deception and pain, that even if there is no escaping the eventual spider, there is grace and joy to be found, that if you glimpse upon dusty sunlight illuminating the dew upon the lines of the web, there is beauty in the refracted light, and thus, hope still.

—Savni Apte

It took me quite some time to get through—the stories in it are the kind which you think about days after you read them, the ones which stick with you for long after. The authors narrative voice is so clear in the words, and the portrayal of emotions and metaphors shows such amazingly skilled writing.

—Ayra

Don’t miss your chance to own one of these works of art!