A massive stranger stands in the middle of the street, crying like the world has shattered. Times have shifted while I was away in that other place, so I've learned to accept change. People grieve differently now. But this man—his arms wrapped around my leg, sobbing, sniffling—and we've never exchanged a single word? Even by modern standards, that's deeply unhinged. I shook him off immediately. His desperation was suffocating, and his proximity was unbearable. "What's wrong with you? Bawling because you spotted a ghost?" "N-no! Please believe me! It was real! It's right there—you have to see it!!" I almost dismissed him entirely. Here he was, pleading for help while looking down on me simply because I appear young. Typical. I'm not the one who fell apart. He is. Yet when I glanced toward where he pointed... Something was undeniably there. I pulled out coarse salt from my jacket and scattered it across the ground. I looked again. The man stared at me like I'd completely lost my mind. I ignored his judgment. ...Yeah. Something was absolutely there. It turned its head in my direction. And then—eye contact.