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Her face saddens “Then will I be alone?” The fear is so apparent in her voice, it practically tremors across the room

“No, you will be with others Many others just like you You’ll never be alone”

Sheever so slightly She bites down on her lower lip

“Okay, Lucyna I think I’ around mine

“Close your eyes,” I say

Her heavily lashed lids close slowly I can sense her fear Her apprehension of stepping into the unknown

“You’ve nothing to fear Amy Jones, you’re safe,” I whisper

I close one

I’ve returned to Earth since taking Amy Jones to Heaven as I wish to spend some time at my favourite place – Hyde Park in London - before I take ’ as we refer to it London, coincidentally, is where my next human happens to be Not that it would matter where I am, as it only takes me a matter of seconds to travel I close my eyes, think where I want to be, and there I am

I seeon our usual bench He too ers have no need to sit, to rest, as we never tire We do so, I suppose, in attempt to adapt to the environment around us

I glance around Hyde Park There are a few huhts This place fascinates hts it has to offer Year after year I have watched it travel through its seasons, noting how the trees sprout greening leaves that spiral around the y branches, creating the reenery, for them to only turn to burnt aly fro Lastly they end their journey on the Earth’s floor, leaving the tree bare, only for it in its cycle And I a varieties, of colourful flowers I watch as they explode into bloom Then ultimately, and sometimes untimely, fade and die

Just as humans do

Arlo and I have been to places all over the world, seen all the extraordinary sights that God has to offer, but sos that can be the

The bench Arlo is sitting on has a plaque with an inscription scribed on it It reads –

‘John, I’ll love you always and I knoe’ll be together again one day In the fields of Heaven, when God calls forpatiently for me Ava’

I always sit on this bench, one that has been marked by a human loss It feels very much in time ho I am

Humans always mark the death of ones they love Whether it’s a headstone at a grave or a bench very similar to this one I think I understand why they do this An expression of how much they truly meant to them

They really do have so Arlo is also intrigued by the hu how they interact with one another We spend countless hours puzzling over them How they think How they feel Why they behave as they do

“How long do you have?” I ask as I approach Arlo

He looks up at hteen minutes And hello to you, Lucyna”

Arlo is always very precise and to the point

“Hello, Arlo,” I say with a smile

Takingover a question that I have wanted to ask him for some time, a question which has now been piqued by my visit with Amy Jones

“Arlo, ?”

He turns to me “Of course”

“How do I look to you?”

He looks at me puzzled

I refreshto each human, but for some time now I have wondered how I actually look to you?”

“Hht within him “You have never wondered this before, Lucyna?” It almost isn’t a question, but I answer anyway

“Well, I have thought of it many times before Arlo, but have never asked you Honestly, I’m not sure why It’s very curious to me”

I turn to look at hi concentration

“Well, what do you wish me to describe?”

I take a“What colour is my hair?”

“Black As black as the night sky,” he replies

“And what is my eye colour?”

He ponders this for a ht “Well, I would say they are like the colour of the waters that surround the Maldivian Islands I would have to go back and check that I am correct in this, but that is what I believe to be true I can go now if you wish -” His eyes close, readying to leave

“No, Arlo, there is no need I take your word on this”

He opens his eyes

I now findArlo these questions it would end , but it now seems to have only furthered it

Hoish I could see what Arlo sees when he looks at me

“And I, Lucyna, how do I look to you?” Arlo says, breaking into hts

Putting aside h I do not need to I would kno Arlo looks even if my eyes were closed

“You, Arlo, have the lorious hair It’s the colour of the sun, and your eyes, well they are the colour of sugar snap peas”

His smile broadens at my words

I glance back at the few huh life Completely unaware of our existence

“Why do you think we cannot see ourselves, Arlo, as others do?”

But before he gets a chance to answer,I’ood time, but I don’t receive the name until two ood