Tuesday, March 17, 2015


Going to my old office would be, I suspect, as close to being a ghost as I can come while remaining alive. Though a serious attempt would be made by some to make me feel welcome there would be some startlement at seeing me by daylight, From the visits I used to get there from the superannuated and from those who had found new jobs, the overwhelming sense people would have would be discomfort -- they would be where they belonged but I would not. If I didn’t leave after a few minutes, an exorcist might have to be called in. This would actually be a fair motive for visiting; the office I recall could only be improved by men in heavy robes with bells and books and candles chanting and processing up and down and bidding restless spirits depart to their appointed homes and trouble the living no more

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