Spook

Stuff like this keeps me guessing:

Just the other day, Girlfriend said this to me while I drove her to Preschool. She said to me: "When I was your grandmother, you had yellow hair and Uncle Marc hit you on the head with a hammer."

"How'd you know that? I never told you that!"

". . . And I have a sister who is dead," she said. "And I miss her."

Shocked, I asked her, hands shaking at the wheel: "What was her name? Do you know her name?"

"Her name was 'Johnny.'"

(Thank goodness she didn't get that part right.)

It's good to feel uncertain. I guess.