Nightmares consumed my sleep for weeks leading up to the event. They were relentless. I dreaded to even close my eyes for fear of the mental torture that might ensue. I didn’t think it could get worse. Then the first ghost came.
“Yo brah - you got any brews up in this joint?”
The apparition, fully formed and floating above my bed, had just asked me for beer. My brain rebooted.
“You okay there dude?” it asked me.
“Did you just ask for a beer?” I managed.
“Yah brah!” it answered. “Pibber if you got one.”
“What - who - what are you?”
“Oh, dude, I’m the ghost of the Fourth of July.”
“The ghost of the Fourth of July?”
“Yeah! Let’s get some brews and set off some fireworks before the others show up.”
