Haunting my Dreams

There is a ghost living in my apartment complex. He is medium build, has icy blue eyes and skin, he does not wear a shirt, and he is alive. Very odd for a ghost. He haunts the trash cans. I came down to throw out my trash (some leftovers gone bad and an Allman Brothers album) and I saw his grotesque body. A transcript of our exchange is below (there happened to be a court reporter there):

Ghost: Hey, you.

Me: Me?

Ghost: Of course you, there is none one else around

Me: Oh, well I thought you might be talking to the rats. I know I do. I'm a little lonely. Do you want to be friends?

Ghost: What? No. I'm sick of you throwing your junk out and then not closing the lids. That's why there are so many rats here.

Me: That's also probably why there are raccoons.

He's just like Caspar! He even had a rotting pizza in his hands!

Ghost: Okay fine.

Me: There was a possum last week. He was such a good listener.

Ghost: Look, I don't know or care what kind of mental problems you have but you have to close those lids.

Me: But what about my friends, the rodents? Well, the possum is a little more than a friend. At least I think so. Do you think he likes me, you know in that way?

Ghost: How the hell am I suppose to know?

Me: Well, since you haunt these garbage cans anyway, maybe you can wait until he shows up and then tell me afterward what he said. I think he likes me because he is so nervous around me that he doesn't talk!

Ghost: I have to go.

He is a friendly ghost, like Caspar. I'm so glad that I FINALLY have someone to talk to about my relationships with possums. Well, now there's only one possum for me.