1:05 p.m.

A ghost sits in the first row, at Le Orpheum.

No spirit is worthy enough to see it but mine, and perhaps there is another. Blond tufts of hair, green irises, fair skin. It has chosen to wear a five-piece suit.

There is a fluster to overwhelm me, as I’ll peep over at the ghost again, again, again.

If only someone could rid of my impulse and make these feelings go away.

Scare the ghost so that it will not scare me.

Especially, as it sits in that damned, broken chair.