My head said I couldn’t stay; my heart said I was a monster
A ghost has haunted my dreams for more than 30 years. He is evanescent and ephemeral, in the way of dream figures. Unlike most ghosts, however, today he exists somewhere, most likely balding, with a pot belly.
Long ago, I knew him well. His name was Tim — still is, I guess. He was a frat boy with a houseful of Beta…