(Author's Note: A short story in place of an article today. Happy reading!)
Let's start this story with the twist ending: I'm already dead.
I just wanted you to know right off the bat. I don't want to be accused of ripping off another hack writer.
That said, being a ghost isn't all it's cracked up to be. For one, I don't remember anything. I don't remember my family, my home town, my favorite movie. I don't even remember my name. Don't get me wrong, though. I remember movies and pop culture. I remember history, math, and how to read. I guess all the personal stuff doesn't come with you when you go. From what I can gather, I'm a male in my early twenties and I was shot somewhere in the vicinity of my left ear. The only reason I know this is because, at times when the wind is just right, I hear a whistling by there. Being that I have no reflection, I can't check it out for myself. How do I know I'm a guy in my early twenties? Just this feeling I get that I am. Now, I could be a forty year old man that was going through a mid life crisis, but I'd rather think I'm twenty.
