"I’m Alive!"

Most days, when Mrs. Wigglebottom and I walk by the run down house two in from the corner, there’s a loud knock at the window and a hand waves furiously.

I wave back.

The other day, there was no knock, but after we’d gotten a house away, an old man came running out, “Hey, pretty lady, good morning.”

“Hey,” I said, “Isn’t it beautiful out? How are you doing?”

He stretched his hands out and looked up at the sky.

“I’m alive.” He said happily.

Now, for two days, all I can think about is the ghosts of the Civil War who stole my fucking can opener. I mean, what if one of them was to start hanging out in the yard of one of my neighbors, waving at Mrs. Wigglebottom and I every time we walked by?

I’d never have any reason to suspect he was a ghost.

“I’m alive,” the old man in the run down house said happily. But is he?

One thought on “"I’m Alive!"

  1. Damn Civil War ghosts. You just can’t trust ’em. They’re always stealing people’s kitchen utensils.

Comments are closed.