Say death is just a door that opens onto the next place only it’s locked and the guard stands there impassive unarmed, but for an impressive moustache expecting you already know how to get through since this is something you were supposed to figure out in your lifetime. You had years, after all. What is your excuse for arriving here without the secret code? How could you have wasted all that time? Everyone hopes the guard will have mercy and whisper the password to them on the sly until they see he has no mouth. — Michelle Barker, First Published in Tesseracts 14
