Published on 2011/03/27

Two Souls: A Love Story

A. Jarrell Hayes

If they could be seen, they would appear as two orbs of illumination spinning and twirling around each other. If they existed within the boundaries of time, they would have spent eons in the company of each other.

In reality, they exist in a realm beyond the physical. They reside in a universal collective consciousness: a lake of light where all spirits go after death. Where the spirit orbs await to return to the physical world, to live another life in another body.

The spirits have always existed. And these two spirits -- when they are visible, one appears as dull green and the other as a pale blue -- have been together since existence. If the other spirits didn’t know all, they would think them one large orb instead of two.

When these two spirits descend to the physical world, they arrive as twins, binary stars; anything dealing with two. Once, they became two kittens in a litter. The green orb being a male, all-black except for his white paws; the blue orb born a gray and orange female. When they were separated -- the female being given to a friend of their mother’s owner -- the male kitten cried constantly and refused to eat. The kitten died three days later.

When the green orb vacated the kitten’s shell and returned to the collective, the blue orb had arrived as well. The female kitten had escaped from the house and was killed by a car the same day the male kitten died.

In death, the two were reunited.

Sometimes death wasn’t enough to reunite them. The blue orb became the first son to a well-off family. In the same hospital, the green orb entered the physical world as the daughter of a poor widower. For years, the two orbs did not know one another in their physical manifestations. But time means nothing to spirits.

The girl’s father worked as a night janitor. When she turned eighteen, her father began taking her with him on his nightly work. The boy worked as a night guard in one of the buildings the girl and her father cleaned. The boy and the girl immediately bonded; a bond greater than hormones or love.

The spirits where reunited.

When the young man was shot and killed on duty, the blue orb found it difficult to return to the collective. What was the point, if the green spirit remained in the physical world, embodying the janitor’s daughter? Each night, the blue spirit would appear at the office building as a pale orb of light, fluttering about the building searching for the young woman. When it found her, it would speak the way spirits communicate; to humans, the sound reverberated off the walls as wails from the grief-stricken dead. Even after the young woman quit the job and moved to another city, the blue orb still visited the building at night. Humans that saw the blue orb of light called it a ghost.

When the janitor’s daughter died at the age of 80, sightings of the shimmering pale blue ghost ceased. The blue spirit returned to the collective, to reunite with its green partner.


An instance arrived when the green spirit got separated from the blue spirit in the collective. They were weaving a double-helix through the collective, conversing and laughing in a manner only bonded spirits could. Then the pale blue orb found itself alone in the vastness of the lake of consciousness. Though other orbs of spirits surrounded the blue light, it was alone without the presence of the green orb. Where had it gone?

It had returned to Earth, unexpectedly and without notice. If the blue spirit wanted its partner back, it would have to follow it to the physical world.

There is no time in the collective consciousness of the spirit world, the wilderness on the other side of the veil; the Earth continued to spin as the blue spirit traveled. When it arrived, it scouted a young married couple vacationing with their three children in Florida. The husband’s seed trekked the arduous journey towards the wife’s egg. The blue spirit embedded itself in the sperm with the best chance to fertilize the egg.

A male child was conceived that night.

A month later, in southern California, a girl -- containing the green spirit -- was born. She grew into a joyful woman. She sought smiles in every face she saw; if none was there, she offered the person one of her own smiles. Her favorite color was blue.

As he matured, the boy with the blue spirit couldn’t find a reason to smile. He often walked with his head down, his lips curled into a grimace. If anyone smiled at him, he would snarl in return. He grew up middle-class, but had little love for money.

As a man, the blue spirit frequented bars often. There was an empty vessel inside the man; he tried to fill it with liquor. But the vessel had a hole at the bottom; no matter how much he filled the bottle with alcohol, it would simply drain through the hole, and he would drink to refill it again.

The woman with the green spirit traveled often, mostly for her aimless pleasure. One night she found her self in the blue spirit’s favorite bar. She saw the man sitting at the counter and clutched her chest. She knew him, but at the time didn’t know how.

She sat next to him. He slurred his words as he greeted her. She smiled. He attempted to snarl in return, but was too intoxicated to do so. Instead, his lips curled into a grin. It was the closest he came to smiling in months.

The woman laughed. The man chuckled. As he did so, he shook the whiskey-laced cobwebs from his spirit. He knew her. This realization sobered him up instantaneously.

“I-I know you,” he said, his voice nearly a whisper.

“Excuse me, sir?” She was confused by his words, even though she had the same feeling about him.

“I don’t know how,” he continued, “but I know you. I feel … I feel that I was born to meet you.”

She smiled, nodded, and took his hand in hers. When they touched, she swore her hand radiated a dull green glow and his hand one of pale blue.

The man saw the glow on their hands, too. The woman’s green glow moved from her hand and up his arm. His nerves felt nothing, but his soul was aware when the green light began filling up his blue bottle. Like a gel, the green light oozed into the bottle; a layer solidifying at the bottom, blocking the hole at that end.

While this happened to the man, the woman noticed how the blue light from the man jumped onto her wrist, and then it leaped onto her knees. The light traveled down to her feet; she felt sturdier, her legs planted in a tundra of bliss.

It took many years for the illumination to travel and engulf both humans. It took time for them to realize that they shared a bond greater than hormones or love. But what is time to spirits?

A. Jarrell Hayes is a poet, novelist, and book reviewer. He has written twelve books and ebooks of poetry and fantasy. His most recent works are the book of poems To Woman, From Man and the urban fantasy novella Detecting Magic with Dick Hunter: The Mort des Hommes Files. In his spare time, he designs and sells shirts, hats, and other merchandise for poets and writers at He invites you to visit his website at