I don’t know about real ghosts. I don’t believe in those things. Part of me wishes I did. The specious thought makes me laugh but I force it back. My nose and parts of my face, as well as a few ribs, while having benefitted from a few hours at the medcen, are still tender. The skin and bone buds still need a bit of time to completely take. Until they do, I need to be more careful.
I find myself staring at one of the preserved houses on the street, anachronistic throwbacks to a time when the first level of homes were reserved for livestock and storage, and when windows actually opened. The construction looks dubious, but I’ve never been a fan of the past. The past only brings sorrow.
“The owners of that house were childless,” a sussurant voice whispers from behind me. “Rather than risk th
