“It’s not bullshit if it’s true.” She sat at the table. When he made a face at her, she gave her head a slight shake and asked, “What?”
“There you are,” he replied, “a ghost in my very own kitchen and looking as normal as a basket of fruit.”
[She] laughed. “A basket of fruit?”
He opened a beer and sat across from her. “I feel better. You can go now.”
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