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Greg

Greg may not leave this mortal plane while bound by unfinished business, which sucks because he’s sure somebody else is hitting on Cecilia back on the Astral right now.

“I can sense great anxiety,” the medium intones, correctly for once. Greg polters with the doorknob, hoping she’ll hurry up. They gasp. “Let your wishes be known, spirit!”

“I have three books out from the library, they’re under my bed, PLEASE tell someone to look,” he says.

Silence falls; the room fills with heartbeats.

“I believe I hear the letter J,” says the medium. Greg haunts the crap out of her cat.

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