Anurak, an old Thai man nearing the end of his life, wheeled his chair slowly toward his study. The room was dim until he flicked on the light, illuminating shelves of old books, trinkets, and memories. He turned on his computer with a practiced hand, waiting patiently as it whirred to life.
Tonight, for the last time, he would write.
His fingers moved slowly but steadily across the keyboard, typing out the final chapter of his long-running online novel.
Lilith walked quietly along the cemetery path, the gravel crunching beneath her heels. A bouquet of pale lilies rested in her hands. She stopped at the modest gravestone marked "Rashely." A soft breeze played with her hair as she knelt down.
"I married Yang Yang," she whispered. "He still cries for you sometimes… but he smiles more now."
She placed the flowers gently by the headstone. "Our son—he calls me 'Mom.' I'll take good care of them both. I promise."
With a final glance, Lilith stood and walked away, the leaves rustling quietly in her wake.
Anurak hit "Publish," and for a long moment, he simply stared at the screen.
Then, he turned off the monitor.
He wheeled himself to his nightstand and opened a small wooden drawer. Inside was a single necklace—an old charm on a worn thread. He held it in his hand, lay down on his bed, and closed his eyes with a faint smile.
He never opened them again.
A New Beginning
With a sudden jolt, Anurak's eyes snapped open.
He was no longer in his study. Soft sunlight filtered through sheer curtains. The bed beneath him was plush, the sheets pink and fluffy. The room was cozy, feminine, and filled with pastel colors and plush animals.
He sat up slowly, his movements careful and deliberate—not out of fear, but wisdom.
He looked down.
A small belly bump rose gently beneath the pink pajamas he wore. His hands, once wrinkled and weathered, were now smooth and deep brown. His arms—slim, delicate. His fingers—graceful, young.
He stood, surprisingly steady, and walked to the vanity table across the room.
The girl in the mirror was about sixteen. Dark, glowing skin. Large, expressive eyes. Loose curls tumbled down to her hips like silk, and she wore soft pink pajamas decorated with little stars.
Anurak stared at the reflection for a long moment—shocked, but not afraid.
Just… aware.
"Hmm," he murmured to himself, voice lighter and higher now. "Interesting."
He gently touched the necklace that now hung on the girl's neck—the same one he had held when he passed.