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Meet Cute #3: Ghost Bill and Ghost Rachel —

When I met Rachel — well, officially, at least — I’d been haunting the house much longer than she had.

Almost two decades, in fact. I had died in 1970, the year before Rachel was born. My neighbor murdered me when I was a young man of 29.

I suppose that’s why I ended up a ghost: no goodbyes, no resolutions. No angels murmuring in my ears.

Just like in life, I wasn’t the most outgoing ghost. Mostly I stayed in the attic, meditating or writing a history of the world on ghostly manuscript paper.

One morning, I was coming back from an evening of haunting the graveyard when I saw an ambulance pulling out of the driveway. Rachel’s parents were standing on the front porch with their fists to their mouths.

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