I was filling my cat’s water bowl yesterday morning when the sink spoke to me. Or, more accurately, wrote to me.
Now, I don’t expect you to just take my word for it. You don’t know me. I could have been tired, and imagining things. I could have a fanciful imagination. I could even be lying, inventing an interesting story so I’d have something to write about. But
pictures don’t lie pictures taken by people who don’t know how to use Photoshop don’t lie. And so I present:
If my sink has to be inhabited by a ghost, I’m glad it’s a friendly one.
(Editor’s note: The editor thinks it’s possible that ghosts exist, but does not truly believe that one is living in her sink. Unless the faucet goes on by itself. That might convince her.)