Ghosts carved messages on my arms at night.
Only when I showered off the blood did I see the messages clearly.
I ignored them, bandaged my arms, and went about my day.
So, the ghosts carved messages on to my legs… my chest… my back… my face…
More bandages.
I used up all my vacation time… should I call a priest… watching television… drinking… drinking…
Then, I realized… I don’t believe in ghosts.
I hired a nurse to tie me to the bed at night.
After that, the ghosts left me alone.
(But the nurse beat me with a hammer.)