“Tell me everything.” He said with a small smile. I smile back and take a deep breath, this is ganna take a while.


“I remember it like it was yesterday. It was just an ordinary day. There was nothing spectacular happening, just a normal Thursday. I did my normal routine; woke up, took a shower, ate breakfast, walked to school, but on my way home is when it all happened."
“I was pretty popular at my school you see, so as I was walking back home I was looking down at my phone tweeting something stupid to my fellow students. I wasn’t watching where I was going and without knowing I wandered into the middle of the street."


“I remember it being cold that day, rainy and foggy. It was hard to see anything. I hold no grudge or hate towards the man who was driving the truck that hit me. It was purely my fault, and he was a good guy. He had jumped out of his truck and ran over to my mangled and still body. I had died on impact. For some reason though, I didn’t go anywhere. Kind of just watched what was going on from afar. It's weird... Don't ever try it."


“I suppose I still have some ‘unfinished business’ or something. Although I have no clue as to what it might be."


“So here I am, wandering the empty street that I died on. I can go other places but where would I go, you know? My family is still trying to get over my passing, and I don't like to watch them be sad. It sucks that I can't do anything to comfort them. How can I though, I'm dead! No one knows I'm here."


“It’s quite depressing really…” I take a deep breath, let it out and continue.


“So that’s why I stay here, walking up and down the half a mile, straight street. My names Julie by the way, Julie Winters. You can look me up on Facebook, though I probably won’t accept your friend request. Nothing personal… Anyway I’m eighteen and five foot four inches."


“One of the weird things about being dead is my hair is back to my natural style. I had dyed it blonde and got a perm when I was fourteen. Now it’s back to normal, curly red hair that can’t be tamed. Which is a good thing I guess, I kinda missed it. Anyway, I have pale green eyes and freckles.” I pause and look at his face. He seems relaxed enough so I keep going.


“Let's see, what else? I’m afraid of clowns, needles, spiders, heights, no longer afraid of dying though so that’s a plus. I don't have a favorite TV show, too many to choose from. My favorite move is ‘The Proposal.’ I like too many songs to choose just one favorite, and it changes all the time anyway. My favorite color is purple, my favorite word is fantastic, and I like long walks on the beach and dancing in the rain. So yeah, that’s me.”


I feel like I had been talking for hours. I had basically just told this guy my life story and I just met him, maybe thirty minutes ago? I guess I had a good excuse though. He can see me, well not really. He’s blind. But he can hear me and feel me. He bumped into me as I was walking down the street for the millionth time. I literally almost cried at the contact. So here we are sitting on the curb, me with my hands in my lap and him holding onto his red and white walking stick.


I look at his face and he’s smiling.


“Are you telling me the truth or are you just crazy?” He says lightly, his face turning towards my voice slightly.


“I swear on my life that it’s the truth.” He laughs a little at my weak joke. He shakes his head and his brown hair swishes back and forth softly with the motion. He sighs contemplating whether or not to believe me. He finally makes a decision and holds his hand out to me.


“My name is Foster Conway. I also enjoy dancing in the rain, and I believe you.” Letting out a sigh of relief, I smile and place my hand in his, enjoying the feeling of contact for the first time, in a long time.