Untitled #1

It's amazing how certain people can haunt you long after they're gone. Ghosts that somehow defy physics to be present in their absence. That call and laugh and cry to the melody of silence. That breathe with the wind and cry with the rain. And like schizophrenia, make you question what's real and what is not.
Conventional science may scoff, but ghosts are real. They hang around in people's smiles and certain songs and items of clothing. They leap out of photographs and walk in dreams. I know this because there's one in my bedroom right now, watching me as I write. I might entertain her for a while, sing to her a little. Then I'm going to have dinner and rejoin the world of the living and continue with my mundane life.