Funeral for a Friend

The three leaned over the railings and looked out over the sun baked street below.

"And that, my dear friend," continued the older ghost, "is the reason why we cannot leave the cemetery."

"Not a bad turn out." The newly deceased Jasper noted. "No idea who the tall, dark, handsome thirty-something is, though."

"Which one?" inquired the Conductor.

"The one with his arm protectively, yet tenderly, comforting my wife."

"Ah, that one. Well, no need to worry about that kind of thing, now. Is there?"

Jasper noted that the other ghost, Mr Bowler, had removed his hat -- as a sign of respect, he suspected. He found himself surprisingly touched by the nuance.

Once the mourners had left (following Uncle Bill to the nearest Pub) the others floated off to a decent distance to allow him an opportunity to have a private moment with himself.

"You might as well get used to it, my lad," the Conductor had enthused. "Nothing like a visit back home for old times sake."

Jasper had assumed he meant a good, old fashioned haunting (before Mr Bowler had pointed out the 'Cemetery Clause'). What he had actually alluded to was the practice of jumping back into your body to:

1. Check on deterioration rate.

2. To appease the practical side of any number of organized religion bases.

3. To play zombies when no-one was looking.

After a poke about in some of his major organs, Jasper emerged to find Mr Bowler and the Conductor in a frantic whisper about whether or not they thought he liked them and if he might consider not staying in his coffin all the time.

Resigned to the hospitable nature of his death, Jasper drifted over to them. After all, eternity was going to last a very long time.

(300 wds)