The Ghost: A Short Story.
As I sat in my office going through the obituaries in today’s newspaper I heard a soft knock on my door. I looked at my watch, surprised as to who it might be on a Sunday morning. However, before I could respond, a dishevelled man with uncombed hair and dim uncomprehending eyes peeped at me from the door. ‘May I come in sir?’ he asked politely. Though I did not want to be disturbed but taking pity on him I decided to call him in. He looked as if he had not slept for weeks and is in some serious trouble. ‘Please come in. Is everything okay?’ as he sat on the chair as I asked with genuine concern. ‘Thank you for letting me in. I’m alright.’ He shook his head with irritation and said, ‘travelling in Delhi is a cumbersome task. It dazzles me. Last night I had a narrow escape right in front of your office when a bus had almost flashed its headlights in my eyes. Even my goggles couldn’t have saved me.’ He raised his eyebrows at the insensitivity of the people. ‘You should have been m...