The Moment After Death

Writing prompt: All religions are real and the world just ended.

How did I get here? Jake looked around at the surrounding people packed into the white abyss. Slowly he was being shoved towards the same direction as the person in front of him. The last thing he remembered was a sudden blast then, Poof! Here he was alongside thousands.

There has to be some kind of mistake, He continued to think as he suddenly heard several shouts in front. The closer he got, the louder they had become as several people stood holding signs and waving their arms.

“Christians over here! Line up in the denomination once you’ve reached the markers!”

“Buddhists this way. You can choose your reincarnation after having tea and a group meditation!”

Jake stopped, allowing several people to push past as they began to herd towards the shooting men on stands, boxes and even rocks that lined against several gates, halls and building entrances. They were dressed in robes of different colours, sizes and even emblems related to each religion. To his belief, it reminded him of a university club week trying to recruit members for their activities. Jake made his way towards the closest man who was standing under a booth. The sign above was blurry as it shimmered with different symbols and characters before clearing up into a language he understood. It read, “Information booth.”

Jake waited until the man finished pointing to the lost soul before stepping up to inquire about his own fate. “Good Sir, I-“

The robed man interrupted. “Oh no no, I am not good. I am neutral. How may I help you?”

Jake bit his tongue a moment before giving it a shake. What an odd person!

“Hi, I am a little confused about what is going on here!”

Without hesitation, he replied to Jake.

“Well, you are dead. Which faith, belief or ideal did you follow in your life?”

Jake blinked for a moment. How could this man be so blunt!

“Wait what?”

The being before him gave a small sigh while giving a sympathetic smile. “This is the gates to your end. Everyone has different thoughts and believes and we are here to help direct them to the appropriate one.”

Jake shook his head. “What if they aren’t sure and change their mind?”

The man pointed towards a building behind them and to the side, one Jake didn’t see before on his way. “That there is a presentation where you can see the benefits and information clearly. Sometimes down on Earth, it gets a little muddied by changes and misinterpretations.  For those who are still unsure, they can stand by the gates in a waiting area to observe until they have decided.”

Jake scratched at his head. “But what of those who believed in hell and satan? If they know they are going to be judged harshly and meet their demise, why would they choose that!”

The man chortled. “Oh, you mortals. Fear isn’t always the driving factor to the decisions made in your lives. That you can clear up when you meet the doorkeeper where he can judge your life. Either you believe you were “good” or “bad” is all placed on a biased perspective. All we care about is making sure you get to the right place you want to be.”

“Well can I leave if I change my mind?”

The man scoffed, throwing his hands up. “Well of course! Seems kind of silly to stay in one place forever! Of course, you need to meet the requirements or terms needed before making religion changeovers, but that will be covered by the gatekeeper as well when he gives you the pamphlet.”

Jake stood perplexed. Was everything really that easy compared to what they believed on earth?

“Well, what if I was an atheist?”

The being lightened up. “Oh, well if you didn’t believe in any of the religions, then you must be the new helper! Take a robe of any colour and see who needs help ushering the lost souls to the right gate. You will figure out things fine. If you need anything else, let me know!”

And with that, Jake looked at the lined boxes behind the booth and picked a robe. What a strange place this is. He donned his robe and off he went to help the people.

The Meal Mother used to Make.

I decided to do a writing prompt I say, and this one actually made me giggle. 

Please enjoy.

Writing Prompt of the day: Write about the one time you made a meal your mom used to make as a child. 


    Derek was quite certain he would get it this time. Pulling out the cookbook his mom used when he was a little boy, he carefully traced the spine. All of her famous recipes had been written within the worn and brittle book. Her cursive handwriting was clear and crisp, as you could tell she gave it all of her love into the page. With a soft hand, Derek traced the page with a sweet smile. Since her passing, Derek had missed her greatly. When he was clearing out the attic of his childhood home, he found the cookbook within a small box of her things. His mouth began to water at the memories of savoury flavours he craved. Heading into the kitchen, he flipped through the pages debating which one he should try this time. 

Between stir fry, stew and a meat pie, he pondered which one would be feasible. He placed the book down on the stand before looking at his catch of the day as it hung to bleed out. He had taken special care to make sure the meat wouldn’t spoil in the cold room, pulling it down to begin cutting it. Stripping off the outer layer, he hacked and stripped the meat off the bone with precision. With talented handling, he managed to get decent cuts while discarding useless parts. Upon inspection of the cuts, he began to separate and pack several bits for different occasions. Holding a fatty bit, he decided to make a meat pie. The texture seemed right, and the amount he managed to carve would make for several other meals included. Taking the meat, he placed it into his meat mincer and turned the machine on. While he waited for it to process, he cleaned up the mess, making sure to keep the head of his trophy. 

Once the meat was minced, he scaled and packaged the rest in which he would use later. With enough to make a few pies, he nodded with satisfaction. Derek headed to the kitchen with his bowl of meat in one arm and his mother’s cookbook in the other. First, he needed to cook the meat and boil potatoes. Starting up the skillet, he seasoned and spiced the meat to his mother’s instructions. Covering the meat, he began to peel potatoes and waited for the pot of water to boil. Standing back, he quickly tapped the book to read. Somehow he felt like he was missing something. Right, he snapped his fingers with a hand gunshot, the recipe called for some corn. 

Brushing his hands on his chest, he headed to the panty. Usually, he kept a good stock of canned veggies and soups for this occasion, so having a small can of corn wouldn’t be a problem. He shuffled a few cans around, eventually finding one as he cheered with a happy grunt. It was cream of corn, which in his mind was a better option. Can’t always follow the recipe to a T, he thought with a chuckle. Returning to the oven, he checked the process of the meat before grabbing the can opener. After opening the can, he placed it down and turned the oven on. With a spoon, he mixed both the meat and the potatoes, making sure they were well on their way. The meat was partially ready as he pulled it off the stovetop. No point in over-cooking it when he was going to bake it all.

 Derek pulled out a glass bakeware bowl, pouring three-quarters of the meat into it. Next, he took the cream of corn and created a small layer of it across the top of the meat. He took a small silver spoon to help smooth it all out, making sure it was covered entirely. Lastly, he checked the potatoes. They were the perfect cook to mash as he pulled it off the stovetop and drained the water. With a good mash, milk and butter, he whipped it up something fierce before globbing it up with a wooden spoon. Craftily, he plopped it on top of the layers in the glassware, covering the corn and meat without spilling it over the edge. With a fork, he fluffed the layer about, giving it a good texture to bake. With a small smile of delight, Derek was excited to see the potato crisp into a lovely golden texture. Placing it into the oven, he stood with his fists on his hip in triumph. 

Now all he had to do was wait. Blowing as raspberry, he looked around at the dishes. Well, he had some time to waste. With that, he began to clean up his mess, then set the table. He had just finished lighting candles when the timer ran for the pie. Licking his lips at the delicious smell, he opened the oven to take a peek first. His expectation of the crispy potato design on the top was spot on. There it was, the beautiful masterpiece from his mother’s recipe. Pulling it out, he hardly could wait as he skipped to the table, placing it down on a cork trivet.  Before sitting down, Derek quickly ran to the kitchen to grab a wine class and his finest red. 

Oh, how he waited for this moment, rubbing his hands together he anxiously poured himself a glass before cutting into the meat pie. With a big scoop, he dished it to his plate and delicately picked up his fork. The moment of truth to see how well he was able to cook his own killed game. With trembling fingers, he loaded his fork with a bit of each layer and took a bite. The flavour swirled his taste buds. The tenderness of the meat, the creamy corn and potato perfectly mingling the juices and spices. The more he chewed, however, the more that there was something missing. It was everything he was hoping for but it wasn’t like his mother’s. He took a few more bites, his euphoria dissipating quickly as he frowned into his meat pie. What was he missing? Was it the cream corn? Maybe the meat was too fresh since she always just made it with store-bought products. 

With a heavy sigh, he finished his plate using a bit of bread to scoop up the juices running amuck on his plate from the meat. Sitting back he smacked his lips, grabbing his glass of wine as he stared at the head of his prized kill sitting on the other side of the table. With a narrow glare, he took a sip as he stared into the eyes of the blue eyes of the man whose body he cut up. Maybe it was the meat, Derek thought as he swished the wine within his mouth to clear his pallet. With a crooked smile, he continued to stare darkly. Next time, I will get it right.

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Turan Turnip

Overtaking Kings

Kicking the doors open, Athello stepped into the vast empty halls prepared, his companions beside him as they stood at the ready. This was the moment he was waiting for as the battle spread across the castle. He fought long and finally the tyrant king would be brought to justice. At the end of the long hall, sat the king. His crown brightly glinting on the top of his head, his robes neatly pressed and cleaned. He was magnificent to behold, as the rumors had rang true. King Galford was a beast of a man as he sat waiting, holding the arms of the grand chair as the light of the torches gave him a sinister appeal. Holding his hand to halt his comrades, Athello walked forward alone. It was a long stretch from the door to the chair as his footsteps echoed off the walls. 

Time itself seemed to stop as Athello’s body shifted into that of a different being. The embodiment of Chaos stepped out from the shell of the man while he smiled mockingly. With a grand gesture, he opened his arms wide as if to accept an embrace from the king. Stopping with still space between them, he called out to him.

“It has been a while, Order. Or shall I call you ‘Brother’?”

Hiding a wince, the king grumbled. “Chaos. I should have known you would have been behind this all.”

Chuckling, Chaos dropped his arms as he took upon his true name. “Yes, it wasn’t hard to find you. Being that it was always easy to seek you out. To come and destroy what you have built so meticulously. Although, I must say, you did a fine job making it difficult at first.”

Order gripped with white knuckles at the King’s chair. “And what was it this time that called you out of your hole? Was it the structure of peace between the other countries? The strong alliances of nobles and their resources? Surely there was no reason to besmirch my efforts.” 

Standing up the king waved his hand off towards the farmlands he knew laid in the far distance for his window. 

“I have made this kingdom more prosperous than it has ever been. Our lands are rich in soil and abundant in harvest. We have ships and armies that could conquer our enemies and change the way of things.” 

Order took a few steps towards the wall, placing his hands behind his back as he stood with such regal beauty. With a heavy heart, he sighed as he closed his eyes. “Everything was going according to plan, so why must you bring your influence here?”

Tiptoeing towards the King, Chaos giggled like a child. “Because it was not ‘free’ brother. Your obsession of influence was stifling.” 

Dramatically sliding the rest of the way to stand beside Order, Chaos conjured with his hand across the wall, sharing the image of the castle from afar.

“You see prosperity, I see devastation. The people of the lands were suffering while the rich were feasting and plumpening up.To see those who work their hands to the bone, tilling the soil with blood and tears while those who were born into better lives sit on the carcasses of the hard working. Fat pigs on fertilizer, they stop the innocent into the ground and to their deaths.” 

The image flashed as it showed the farmers in their fields, weak and frail, some passing out from the heat. From there it showed carts full of those who have died from hunger and starvation. The king gruffed. 

“This is necessary to build. Without their sacrifices, we could accomplish nothing. They provided food for the soldiers to fight and keep peace.”

The image flashed to the guards enforcing the time curfew as well as beating those who could not pay taxes.

“What about the suppression? Adding the curfew to those who wandered around the streets? How the people feed the armies that in turn beat and assault them?”

Order turned snarling, “I gave them a choice! Offering help to those in need and asking only of them to work. Instead they lazed about and drank away their gains, gambled their fortunes and whored at the brothels. They refused to listen so I gave them guidelines to reconstruct their failures. The weak are only in their will, abiding by the rules would have saved them.” 

Chaos tilted his head, curious to learn more. “And yet they starve, unable to provide more than what was taken from them. Death tolls increasing, food stores drying up and yet the nobles throw parties. Even while you throw balls and festivals, doing the very thing you punish your people for.”

With a dominating presence, Order pointed his finger up towards Chaos. 

“Since when did you care for the people and suppression? Are you not the one that brings misery to those around you? To hurt the innocent bystanders in your war as you trampled them at the gate? Had they listened to me there would have been no death or blood shed. Harmony alongside others. We could accomplish great things and yet they turn their backs on those they do not know!”

Chaos swung his sword in hand, playfully as the sound whirled around it. “It is as you would say part of the cycle. It’s not about the death’s or emotions of those involved. If not for your disturbance in the balance, there would be no need for either mine or your influence. Your power had over reached its limits, giving me power. The power to pull at the small tethers of rebellion in the hearts of the free wills. Without my chaos, there could never be order. Your power is to keep those in line, yet when that line is to narrow it is hard to keep a strong step. The bridge over the water would crumble as those trying to cross would parish. The lines of power are too much push and no pull.” 

Order fumed, his fists clenched tightly as he held dearly to the body of the king. “Everything was fine! I was so close to perfection and beginning this world to a new order! Laws and expectations finally match! The only influence you brought was to undermine my greatness!

Placing a hand on Order’s shoulder, Chaos gave him a tender smile while trying to calm him. 

“I am not destroying your work, Dear brother. I am only helping encourage it. With my help you can rebuild again, stronger and more unwavering than before. The slate will wipe clean and a new path reborn.” 

Order held stern to Chao’s eyes, shaking in his anger only for a moment. Had he been blind to how out of control of the influence he had been? Scanning the sincerity of his brother’s face, he looked back to the images of the present. The pain of the people unable to keep up and the gluttony of the ones who rode on their backs. It was not his plan at all as he defeatedly dropped his hand to his side. Yes, his brother had been right to come and cleanse the land of this terror that had ruled over them all. He had been so blind and focused on the goals that he had truly lost sight of the real goal he had come to achieve. The utopia he sought to bring had fallen short and the glass had now shattered. Looking back to Chaos, Order accepted his fate as the skin of the King faded away. There in a golden glow was Order’s true form. 

“You are right, little brother. You were always right. I have overstayed my time, warped the minds of the people. Please forgive my shortcomings and may you do better to succeed in my stead.”

Reaching out to grasp his brother’s shoulder, Order smiled with care as they held each other. “It was good to see you once more brother. Next time I shall make it more exciting for you and not keep you too far out of reach.”

Chaos smiled brightly, nodding proudly. 

“I await with anticipation.”

It was a flash as the peasant cupped the back of the King’s head, thrusting the sword deep into the rib cage and into the heart. Chaos looked down to see the sword thrusted into him, his appearance shaping back into that of King Galford. He looked up as Order held strong unto the hilt, the shape of Athello covering his face. King Galford coughed up blood as it dribbled down his chin. Athello grabbed tight to the King’s body as he helped him lay down to the ground. They watched each other as the life seeped out of Galford’s eyes. Waiting a few moments more as the air finally let loose from his lungs, Athello ripped his blade from the body and stood up. Looking down at the now dead King, he nodded with solemn eyes. “Goodbye brother. I will miss these family meetings.”

Athello turned to the men by the door as they cheered. The tyrant king now slain and a new leader born as Athello took the crown from the body and placed it upon his head. The war had ended as they exchanged the hands of power. As Athello now became ruler of the land, he stood on the steps of the castle as he took in the faces of the people who fought beside him.

“The King is dead! And I in his stead will lead us to the new beginnings! I will bring order and peace, as we rebuild what the king had destroyed. This time, I will do it right.”The crowd’s cheer was deafening as Athello looked out across the sea of people. Order smirked with determination. Yes, I will do it right this time.

Unexpected Changes

She started climbing down the side of the rocky cavern. The air was dark, heavy and dead. Obviously, there hasn’t been any airflow for some years now. How come a tunnel that ran deep into the earth like this has never been uncovered before? Cindy finally made it to the sandy bottom where she let out a harsh grunt. It’s been a while since she’s had to free climb in a long time without gear. She turned from the wall and looked out into the newly entered room of the tunnel. It was completely pitch black. Cindy turned on the light from her headband, squinting from the sudden brightness that enveloped the entirety of the room. It was a spacious gap that spread out into a circular almost smooth dome. The floor was a sandy spiral of speckled colors and small stones, reflecting the light coming from her headband. It gave a beautiful eyry glow. 

Cindy stepped out into the open space, no echo bounced back as she took each step. It took her by surprise the silence from her boots as she expected the sound to vibrate off the walls. The room emitted a strange peace where everything seemed to be locked away in a different spectrum of time. She scanned the walls to see if any other tunnels lead further in, but found that this was a dead end. She reached the center of the cavern and inspected the middle. Shockingly there was a plaque with strange symbols discreetly placed just under the sand. She hardly noticed it as it purposely blended with the surroundings, bouncing off the same eyry glow the rest of the stones and sand did. With one slower glance around the room, Cindy knelt down to get a closer look at the plaque. She had studied different symbols from the past as well as dead cultures that left a very subtle hint of existence but had not encountered anything like this before. She reached out to touch the carved symbols but stopped just hovering over them. Instinctively she felt a sense of foreboding and withdrew her hand. She stood up and pulled her walky-talky out of her pocket. Still looking at the plaque she radioed her assistant. 

With a damped bloop, she spoke into the mic, “Joe, I found what looks to be a meditation ring.” As she let go of the button another damp bloop sounded, signifying she was done talking. 

A split second later a returning bloop rang and a male voice crackled through, “Anything cool looking? I don’t want to go home empty-handed this time.” 

It ended with another bloop. Cindy frowned and shook her head. Did he think that all the explorations had to end with some big treasure? This was a quest for knowledge, not gold and silver. Her voice was laced with irritation as she replied, “Just get your ass down here.” 

With the last bloop, she shoved with talky back into her pocket. He was going to take a while as he wasn’t very good at rock climbing. Cindy vindictively envisioned him falling on his attractive looking face as he came down. Why she chose him to be her assistant was beyond her comprehension. He was mediocre with any history or culture, greedy and very sly. A part of her wanted to release him from the position she gave him, but she had this nagging feeling he would be handy someday for her. She let him stay on her gut feelings. Cindy could never quite understand how she could understand these feelings, but they drew her to places no one else knew or discovered. This made her very successful with being the first person to uncover these hidden civilizations that people thought to have never existed. Although she firmly believed Atlanta didn’t exist, people urged her to go and find it because of her gift. Thankfully she proved herself right thus far. 

While she was deep in thought she walked towards the walls and ran her finger along the almost perfectly smooth walls. It was as if the walls were somehow shaped naturally from water, like how broken glass would be smoothed down on the beach from the tide. Of course, that couldn’t have happened as they found the original cave so far inland from any major bodies of water. To top it off all the rest of the tunnels leading to this room were sharp and jagged, proving to be difficult to climb and hike through. As Cindy walked the outskirts of the room still running her hands on the stone, she felt like there was a reason she was brought here. This was no small coincidence that she happened upon the entrance and bullied Joe to follow along. She found herself smiling as he remembered his bitching and complaining the whole way through as she found slight pleasure in torturing him. He was a pretty city boy who struggled to the outback. It did come in handy though as he was amazing with technology where she was awful with computers.

Cindy shook her head as she realized she zoned out on thoughts again. As she forced herself back into the present she realized she was stopped at a particular part of the room facing the wall. Her hand stopped right on top of some very subtle markings left on the wall. It was the same style of symbols that was on the plaque. She hardly even noticed them as she moved her hand off the markings. She astonished herself on her inept ability to just stumble across things. She sighed and whispered aloud, “Now if I could only obtain the ability to communicate with people the same way I can discover things, I think I would be a pro.”

As she finished whispering, Joe fell off the remainder of the wall and landed flat on his face with a damp thud sound. She jumped as it broke her train of thought and she looked over at him. The room had an incredible ability to dampen noise that it was terrifying. She sighed as she realized it was just Joe and put her hands on her hips. “Are you wearing those boots I got you with the grip?” 

Joe stood up with a grunt and he brushed off the sand caught in his stubbly face. He looked rough with the week look of growth and drenched with sweat. He said with absolute confidence once he was brushed off, “No. I am not.” 

Joe turned on his headband and looked quickly around the room and drooped with disappointment. Cindy scowled but turned around back to the wall. 

“It’s just an empty stupid room.” Joe whinnied, “What use is this to us? “Let’s go off the hard beaten path,” she says, “let’s go into this sketchy cave!” she says. “Hey, I brought us to a dead end with no profit,” she says!” 

Cindy rolled her eyes and she hardly heard him kick something and caught him saying “ow” under his breath. Ignoring Joe, she pulled out some paper and lead to place over the top of the symbols. She thankfully imprinted the symbols onto the paper and studied the page intensely. 

“I wonder what this means..” she thought out loud then trailed into thought. 

Joe limped over behind her and looked over her shoulder at the page. Puzzled he asked, “How did you even see that? Do you think there is a hidden pathway that would open up from here?” 

He gently reached for the paper out of her hand, brushing hers as he did so. Cindy blushed at the contact and let him take it. 

Stammering she replied,” Oh.. uh… I kinda just… Found it. Like how I usually just “find” things.” She nervously chuckled as crossed her arms. She hesitated to say anything further as she always thought he would never believe her. Joe turned and walked towards the center of the room, studying the paper just as intensely as Cindy was. She watched him still with her arms crossed. 

As he was walking she remembered the plaque on the ground and yelled, “ Stop! Don’t stand on the…” He kept walking and stepped on the plaque which shot a blinding light up and out of the ground. He was caught in the pillar of light jerked outwards as he shot his head up and silently screamed, pain wrenched through his face. Cindy was quickly dazed by the light and felt a harsh energy blow right through her. Voices of a different language blurred into her mind as she recovered her sight to see Joe trapped in the pillar of light. Confusion slammed her as the voices yelled loudly as she tried to take a step towards Joe. Cindy yelled out but nothing came out. As quickly as the light had burst out from the middle, a thunderous wind blew out and slammed Cindy to the wall. The deafening voices stopped and the light disappeared. Everything went black. 

Cindy woke up. Her head throbbed violently as she tried to sit up. She must have hit the wall hard enough to knock her out. It took her a good while to recollect herself and try to make sense of where she was. It was still pitch black and she reached for her headband to feel it was missing. She rolled to her hands and knees and felt along the sandy ground to attempt to find the light, still in a daze. Suddenly she remembered Joe and the pillar of light and in a panic screamed his name. There was no reply and no echo in return. Oddly enough in her panic, she felt a strange calm. She tried to scream his name again but found her voice was quieter than she intended. She crawled still feeling the sand under her hand, the throb in her head still pounding. She couldn’t tell where she was in the room if they were still in the room, but she felt herself stop her hand in midair. Instinct hit her again as she knew she had reached the plaque. Where was Joe? 

She felt the ground around the area and felt the fabric of a headband. Cindy fumbled as she gripped the band tightly and felt for the light switch on the light. Light burst forth from the bulb as she shakily tried to put the band around her head. She sat on her bottom, closed her eyes, and took slow deep breaths. Now that she could see, she needed to calm down. No use being unreasonable while trying to figure out what had happened. She allowed the strange peace to envelop her as she took her firm and steady breaths. On the last exhale she opened her eyes, ready for the worst. She scanned the room to find that she was indeed in the middle of the room and the plaque was right in front of her. The room was as if nothing had happened. There also was no Joe. 

“Ok. Rationally, there is no way he could have disappeared.” Talking to herself helped her feel like she was still sane. “Maybe he got up and tried to leave.” 

She leaned back onto her knees to look for footprints. As she surveyed the area she realized that there were no markings anywhere. The sand moved under her hands but left no indents as she shuffled on the ground. The sand purposely leveled out as if there was a brush flattening it as she moved around. 

She leaned back on her legs and sat there. He was gone with no trace. She realized he had the paper that she traced the markings on. She looked around again and realized not only was there any signs of tracks. There was no sign of anything at all, including the paper. Sadness hit her just as hard as the wind did.

 “What is happening…?” She felt like crying but the peace the room emitted would not allow for it. Cindy got up and walked to the wall where the symbols were. Maybe she could get some clues from the writings but as she approached they too, where missing. She stared into nothingness for a moment, then glanced at the plaque. The only way she is going to know what happened is to do the same thing. She crawled over to the plaque and took a deep breath. She slammed her hand down on the stone and closed her eyes while she did so. Still keeping her eyes close she waited. Nothing happened. She waited a moment longer then slowly let go of her breath and opened her eyes. She looked at the plaque and realized that something was different about it. She blinked, and slowly the realization started to sink in. 

An angry, annoyed eye stared up from the stone, her hand over the other one. She blinked again. “Oh, God. I must still be dreaming. Or… or I hit my head really badly.” 

A voice spoke into her head. ‘Please remove your hand from my eye. That really hurt.’

She ripped her hand from the plaque and yelped. She stared at the plaque and shook her head slowly. “No. This is impossible.” 

The plaque no longer had any markings or symbols, just the eyes now staring back up at her. The look was now concerned and desperate. Cindy felt a sharp pain within her chest. She felt around the plaque and felt loose sand around it. She dug along the edges of the stone in the ground as desperation hit her hard despite the peace she felt from the room. She began to uncover the edges and was able to pull the plaque out of the ground. She lifted up the piece and slowly sank back into the ground, holding it shakily. Her mouth was dry as she was panting, and managed to finally force out the words.

 “Joe?”