There was a brief time when I was in possession of a cat. It was a calico thing; bright-eyed and handsomely whiskered. I was rather fond of it.
The intonation of the ghost drew my attention from my books.
"You must get rid of it," he said.
"Why?"
"Being occasionally inconvenienced by a man is one thing, but being constantly watched by a cat is another."
"She can see you?" I realized, leaning back in my chair with frank amazement.
"Yes," he said. "Now get rid of with her."
YOU ARE READING
Spectral Conversations
General FictionMy name is Phineus. I have recorded here, for your enlightenment, the converse between the fellow with whom I shared a modest lodging. He I roomed with was remarkable in two aspects: First, he was dead. A wraith lacking a body. Second, he was se...
