I found the ghost in the cemetery downtown, or what was left of downtown, anyway. He was just standing there at the foot of the grave, staring at the white chrysanthemum on the freshly turned earth. Or maybe he was staring at something else. It was hard to say what ghosts really saw.
There were white chrysanthemums on all the graves. I didn’t know who was bothering to put them there. The cemetery staff were long gone judging by the weeds and the garbage scattered throughout the place. No one had bothered to move the little golf cart that had crashed into one of the trees near the gate months ago. I didn’t think anyone was coming back here, not unless they were dead already.
The ghost, whose name was Michael Thane, didn’t seem to notice all the burning buildings in the city’s skyline. It
