[ WP ] You have the ability to see ghosts . One day , one of them decided to tell you about their life .

I need more hours in the day. I've got licensing exams in two weeks, ten straight days of mandatory overtime at work, and I'm supposed to be at Brian's wedding after that. I'll be lucky if I can do the laundry. 
 
 I am in the midst of studying when a phone rings. It's an old-school ring, the kind of clanging that I used to hear in elementary school. I grit my teeth. 
 
 I do n't own a phone with a ring like that. 
 
 `` Ridley,'' I say. `` This is n't a good time.'' 
 
 The ringing stops. It is silent in my apartment. I look around. The living room is empty. 
 
 The phone rings again, harsh and loud. 
 
 I slam my fist on the desk. `` God damn it, Ridley! Not now!'' 
 
 `` I was there, you know, at Normady,'' says an old man's voice, behind me. I whirl and there he is: my apartment's other tenant, a previously-silent ghost. Ridley died in the apartment when he was 88. He died alone in his bathtub after an awkward fall, when the water from the shower had filled the tub as he struggled helplessly to get out. He drowned. Very sad. 
 
 I know all this because I researched Ridley when I moved in. The landlord was quite unapologetic about Ridley's hauntings. 
 
 `` Old fart,'' she had said. `` Does n't do much, shows up every June 6th and sometimes December 7th, and sometimes now and then. Never says a word.'' 
 
 Thanks to Ridley, I haggled two hundred off the rent. 
 
 `` We lost so many boys that day,'' Ridley continues, `` so many good lads.'' He sits on the desk, his somewhat-translucent ass covering my audiology textbooks. I take a deep breath. 
 
 `` Ridley, I'm sorry you had to go through that—'' 
 
 `` It was hell, it was.'' 
 
 `` —but the war ended seventy years ago.'' I smile politely. `` You lived for another, what, sixty years? Got married? Had kids?'' 
 
 `` I was there, you know, at Normady,'' he repeats. 
 
 `` Yes, and it was hell. I got it, Ridley.'' I feel my fists tighten. `` But you had a full life!'' 
 
 He turns towards me, his eyes unfocused and staring through me. `` Would you like to hear about my time in the army?'' 
 
 `` No! I have to study,'' I plead. With a shudder, I plunge one hand through Ridley's hips and grab my textbook. `` Maybe we could talk another time?'' 
 
 Ridley pulls a Zippo lighter from his chest pocket and flicks it open. It glows with a clear blue flame. For a second, I wonder if it would burn me. He sighs and his shoulders slump. 
 
 `` I was there, you know—'' 
 
 I groan, covering my face with hands. 
 
 `` —at Normandy.'' 
 
 ***** 
 If you liked this story, I have other stories at /r/hpcisco7965 and /r/TMODAL. 
 
 

