The ghost ate all the cookies they had made.

“Those weren’t for you,” they said.

It hurried to brush the crumbs from its chest and denied their accusations.

“You’re a bad liar,” they said. “Maybe that’s why you’re still here.”

The ghost thought that was possible, but wouldn’t admit it. It tried to change the subject. Said the weather sure looked terrible.

They began to argue, but dropped it.

“We’re making coffee,” they said. “Do you want a cup?”

The ghost said it would love one, as long as it wasn’t too much trouble.

“Milk and sugar, right?” they asked.


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