‘Open your mouth,’ I heard Simone say to me. Turning, I noticed that she’d put on a pair of surgical gloves and was holding a long cotton swab. ...rom what I’d seen on TV it looked like one used for DNA testing. ‘I realize the irony in this, given the amount of your DNA I’ve sampled, but please don’t make me laugh,’ she whispered to me with a smile. ‘I need to get a blood sample too, Ed. Please roll up your sleeve.’ In a very business-like manner she took my blood like any phlebotomist I’d ever. I felt like my head was slurry, wet and sloshy with cytoplasm. I lay in bed, supine, awake to the night, reading my phone in the dark, my room black as marble.A story popped up on my phone, a local news story of three people drowning to death in a manure pit. A maintenance worker, trying to fix a septic tank, had plunged in, and two others rushed to help him, and they too were swallowed into the pit of shit.Reading it provided me a guilty bit of schadenfreude. Despite my current woes of ghosts,. More

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