Telling myself this will be the last time, I hurry to the Resurrector record player and press Start. A brief crackle, then familiar music fills the air. My husband materializes before me, warm and smiling.
Alive and breathing.
I step into his open arms and we slow dance like we did before everything ended—talking, laughing, never taking our eyes off each other throughout the entire song.
As the music ends, I press closer, whispering, “I miss you.” He dips his head to kiss me, fades from my arms.
Shaking, I wipe my tears and hastily press Start.
One more dance.