the ironical after life

Once upon a time there was a little boy who didn't know whether to believe in ghosts or not. Various people had told him that such residuum of departed humans did indeed exist. He had also heard that when people with important unfinished business passed away without completing what they had set their hearts upon to accomplish, they hardly ever died well. The tug of earthly bonds then became so strong and overpowering that they couldn't cross over to the other side and, instead, lingered on in this world trying to complete their self-imposed task. But alas, it was a futile undertaking because without physical substance they could not effect any change and only ended up repeating trivial actions for all eternity.

Now this was powerful stuff for a little boy to digest and even though adolescence came and went and he grew into strapping manhood with a wife and kids in tow, those dire old thoughts never deserted him. Sure, he'd forget about it most of the time as there was a job to be held on to and social obligations to perform besides family duties and other responsibilities. But when he was alone with his thoughts at night - before sleep eventually stole over his eyes - he would return to face the question which had troubled him since childhood: Did ghosts exist? Or, as he grew more sophisticated in his thinking, was there "life" after death?

This line of intense private investigation led him slowly but surely down the path of unknown belief and no return till a time came when he suddenly found himself one day standing at the statistical end of decline. Yet, though his aged body was preparing to move into shut-down mode in many methodical ways, his brain was still functioning perfectly and hammering away with the same exuberance as always at questions of purpose and existence and mortality. For some people, some questions never get resolved and our hero was one of them. Thus it was sad for him when he died.

However, to this day his descendants say they can sometimes see the old man sitting on his favourite chair, staring out of the window. He doesn't do much else except seem to be lost in his own thoughts and looking a little frightened for that. In fact, some of his great grandchildren joke that he seems to be haunting only himself - such is his peculiar legacy. One so called psychic has even suggested the man probably has some unfinished business but can't remember what it is! Moral: Hit the delete key/ And unsave what is written/ To save the unwrit.