We should cross the street. Eat something.
Are we an easy prey for ghosts? Do you think we could get eaten by them? I mean, eaten from the inside.
I do believe we have rooms for ghosts. We let them in, don’t we? We let them stay. They dwell in us. We become their home, but at the end we realize we are the ghosts ourselves.
Um…yes, I don’t think we are their victims. It’s just another tragic love story.
The street seems empty. We should share a sandwich.