GESPENSTER
I go to my friend J.’s
apartment and learn that my cantankerous cat Fluffy (deceased in waking
life) ripped out his throat. I ponder the imprudence of his getting too
close when he petted her. I plan to send his dad my condolences and
wonder how to dispose of his belongings. I am also curious to read his
work; he was writing on something that intrigues me but my waking
memory has suppressed what that might be. Fortunately, J.’s ghost shows
up in very good spirits to offer post-mortem guidance.