By: S. C. Mills.

Lose yourself amid golden larches, off the trail where you met.

Lie on the cold forest floor. Shiver. Her body isn’t here to warm yours.

Rest her old wristwatch over your heart. It stopped ticking the day she died.

Wait. Your heart will stop ticking too.

Accept that she isn’t coming back.

Let the woods reclaim your body. You don’t need it—you’re inside the watch now.

Years later, when another woman finds you, go with her. Let her slip you around her slender wrist. Let her caress your face and clean rust from your insides, until you shine again.

© 2025. S. C. Mills

S. C. Mills writes primarily speculative fiction, usually centering on queer characters. They live in Seattle, where they like to hike in the dry season and train martial arts while it rains. Find them at scmillsbooks.com and everywhere online @scmillsbooks.

Posted April 2, 2025.