I took my wedding ring off and rubbed the

I took my wedding ring off and rubbed the suntan lines around my finger. I set the ring next to my wife's photograph--like I've done every night since she passed. She use to say

"Never take the only proof of our marriage off your finger. I want the world to know you're a taken man." I used to laugh then. Little did I know that even in her after life

her voice still carried over to me. At first, after the funeral, I couln't hear anything but my own grief. But when I took off my ring and threw it across the room in a rage

, I could have sworn she whispered in my ear: "I lied when I promised 'unto death do us part'. I shall remain your wife...forever." Her ghostly hand caressed my hand & I shivered.

I tried shutting my bloodshot eyes. Counting sheep. Praying. I pulled the covers up over my head. When I peaked out, she was still hovering above me, smiling. "My Love," she

purred. "Gah! Leave me alone, I don't have any food!" The cat didn't budge. "But I love you," the cat repeated seductively. Creepily. It started to remind me of my ex-girlfriend

Phoebe, who sat at my feet and begged for cream in a cup. She especially liked the long walks we used to take in the hills behind our house. The last time I saw her

Reason the postman's nightmare didn't begin until they gave him a letter from "silent night" to be delivered to 573 George Street, apt. C. This was a century old building said to

contain more missing letters from more songs than any other century old building on the block of which this was the only one. That didn't stop it from bragging though.