It was another cold, dreary day in the city. The drizzle had washed away the light confection of snow that had fallen during the night.
Benny sighed. Every day was like this to him. Perhaps because it was like this the day he died.
So he stood on the corner, trying to sell umbrellas to passersby. Of course, no one could ever see him. Such is the plight of a spirit among the living. It had been much like this when he was alive. The afterlife had taken on the gray sameness of his life, so Benny didn’t really notice much difference.
Yet, today would be very different…