He was still wide awake when the morning came - the light changed imperceptibly underground, with the glowtrees flaring up brightly, and the shimmer of golden dust that remained suspended in the musty air, as if millions of butterflies had shed the scales of their wings in midair.

“The ghost was not a ghost at all, or so it claimed - it claimed to be a psychic…”

“But why?" Vimbai whispered, overwhelmed with the weight of accumulated disbelie…”

“The crows demur at first, but soon grow bold and eat. He talks to them. He tell…”

“That was the trouble with the supernatural, Vimbai thought--you didn't know wha…”