Chapter 18: Looking Glass
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Chapter 14. Chapter 15. Chapter 16. Chapter 17

     “Sometimes it’s lonely being dead,” I said, sidling up beside her. I kissed the nape of her neck and wrapped my arms gently around her waist. She smelled of Boone’s Farm, strawberry.
     “I can imagine,” she said, pulling away. “But does that mean from now on you can just come and go as you please? I’m alive, remember? I don’t know about dead people, but the living have feelings and emotions and worries, I can assure you. You frightened me.”
     “I’m sorry again,” I said. “It’s just that when you’re dead, you tend to lose track of time.”
     She took my hand and placed it on her cheek. Her eyes filled with tears, salt water tears like salt water dripping from the gills of a hopelessly hooked fish. “Just tell me why you left so suddenly. And without saying a word.”
     “Only three glasses,” I said.
     “And where did you go?”
     I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Looking for a fourth,” I said.

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Chapter 19