Ghosts and Trains and Things She Left Behind
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” he asked me.
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” I said.
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” he asked me.
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” I said.
I got up and followed as best I could but even in my discomfort I confessed a strange gratitude that she had not let go of my throbbing arm. We walked for forever but in reality we walked just around the block. She steered me past parked cars and a darkened street and down some stairs.
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