“You’re the Luna everyone’s talking about?” Frank looked at me with one eye. His tone was oddly cheerful, yet wary.
“Yes.” I answered apprehensively.
He nodded, clapped his hands together, and walked to the back by the people fridges.
“What brings you down here? I don’t get visitors very often.” He smiled, showing off broken teeth.
I don’t imagine you get any visitors in the morgue. It’s creepy and dark and dank. I didn’t have the guts to say it out loud.
“It’s the morgue Frank. None of us get why you spend so much time down here. You could come up stairs you know?” Zuri said with a chuckle, and he shrugged.
“It’s cool down here, and not too bright. I don’t like the sun. Doesn’t feel too good on my skin.”
Is this man really a ghost? I knew he couldn’t be one; I’d seen one before. An
