I hummed, not recognizing the tune. I hadn’t set up my music, so I was stuck with whatever sounds came out of my own mouth as a soundtrack.It wasn�...t important to be on key. Just noises, sometimes tonal and sometimes not, but filled with the emotion of my paint on the canvas. It was a counterpoint to color, an aural representation of chiaroscuro. It would never be a symphony, but it was a soundtrack and the more I painted, the livelier my vocal presentation became. Without words, I was letting. Gerty is giving me the eye through her silver half-rounds."Until I came here, I never believed in ghosts, but I do now. Do you believe in ghosts. . . Jeff?" Hell yeah." You do?" (the do being higher in pitch)"I don't know if it's ghosts but there is something out there when a person knows something that there was no way they could know but know it anyway." Like what?" asks Gerty."Knowing there is bad news on the phone, that a storage place has no units available, and knowing the picture on an. More

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