In that star-struck world between life and death, she remembered Acantheus. The floodgates opened; she remembered his chestnut curly hair, his warm eyes that twinkled whenever he talked to her…his tan, strong arms that lifted her high above the crowds during ceremonies. Peacefully, she remembered their mistake, the same one she made with Zeus…the planned wedding date, before being whisked away to Zeus’s immortal couch…surprisingly, however, she felt no pain, anger, regret. What was done was done, and it would do no good worrying about what was done in the past life.

Slowly, blissfully, she floated down, for the first time noticing other souls doing the same. Like slow-moving rain drops they fell, hair billowing in the light breeze. Then, just as slowly, a scene below them came into focus: a long, seemingly endless line of souls, all with glinting gold in their hands. With the pang of sorrow that comes from a dream ending, she remembered.

She had no gold. She would never get across the river.

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