Sometimes I think I am actually a ghost wandering the halls of my small home undetectable by human senses, catching the begrudging attention of the dog and cat, both of whom live in an extra-sensory world where they can smell the unseen and hear the invisible touch. Then, I think, ghosts exist devoid of bodily functions, negate the need for beverages and food stuffs. I have a cuppa with me almost constantly and, in my bid to ease the burden on my heart, am constantly desiring food to fill the nagging voice in my stomach. So, not ghost. What then? I

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