I don't know about ghosts but I know about corpses and I've seen them come back. That's right. Angela says it's just I seen so many people they all start looking the same, but I know what I know. They were kids, it seemed liked to me. I can't tell the difference between a high school kid and anybody else under thirty because they all look like high school kids to me now. These two, I pegged them for seventeen or eighteen. First time I saw them, the one called Anne came up to my stand one night and started chatting. She was a lively little thing, short black bangs, bright blue eyes, wore all sorts of rags wrapped around each other in every kind of color. She wanted to know what I would give her.

"I got nothing to give away", I told her, sneering my best 'get lost' look at her. She didn't go for it.

"Come on, Stanley", she said, "There's got to be something."

"The name ain't Stanley", I told her and she laughed.

"It doesn't matter what your name is", she informed me.

"So what's yours then?" I asked.

"Call me Anne," she said. "And give me something".

"So what is it you want?" I was curious. "People Magazine. Us? The Times? It's all that I got."

"You got cigarettes too," she pointed at my stash. I'm sort of not allowed to sell anything but magazines and newspapers and books, but I do a little business on the side. People who know me, know me. I can usually supply a thing or two, depending. It's the only way I made it this far. I don't get carried away, nothing heavy like narcotics, you know. I keep it simple. Barter and trade. There's other people who get stuff too and it's a whole little world down here, especially at night. You probably wouldn't want to know too much. Maybe you're one of those being-too-careful types. If you knew, you might become what they call a witness, and then those cops might call you by your wrong name too. You don't want that. So don't get involved. I'll tell them I never saw you.

"Got any cloves?" she wanted to know. That's when I pegged her for seventeen or eighteen. Clove cigarettes is one of those things you go through when you're of an age and live in a time and place. To me they smelled bad and tasted even worse. I never could understand why a person would ever smoke those things.

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