The more the man danced, the less control Adam had over himself. He’d managed not to say the words all this time. It was hard, but it was doable partially because the syllables and sounds the book demanded him to say meant nothing to him. They got stuck on his tongue. Then the ghost danced, and that resistance began to go away. The more he danced, the more the words pressed into him. Demanding to be spoken, they pushed their way out of him, rolling off his tongue. His vocal cords squeezed and contracted, forcing out sound. It was as if he had no control anymore, and his body had become connected to something other than his mind. His body was connected to the skeletal man’s feet. His voice followed the rhythm of his tap dancing. The words were sticky and sharp, but they came from his mouth
