Ghost Story

He smiled at me as he floated past, drifting into transparency as our eyes met, and heard him whisper inside my head as he passed, “Hello Michael.” I turned my head in the direction whence he came, and he passed again, floating in the same manner, “Hello Michael.” It took me three rounds of the same thing to realize that my ghost was not talking to this Michael, but to some other Michael set in the same time as he. I backed up and entered the shop behind me, in search of warmth and some answers.