Haunted

The very word, haunted, conjures up images of ghosts and goblins, all hallows eve and spooky stories around the campfire. So why am I thinking hanunted, haunted, haunted in June? For me, there will always be a different kind of haunting in my life. It took one glance yesterday at the newsstand. I saw the cover of Asimov's and out of curiousity picked it up only to turn to the table of contents. There was his name. Simple block lettering. Again. His was the chosen one. Again. I read the words, recognized the story, remembered the day he shared it with me, so long ago. Was it fate? What made me turn to see the small magazine poking up from the stand? I think it was the ghost.

There are those who are haunted by their past and then there are those who are the ghosts. I would like a career change.