“You will fill out Form J-12,” Mr. Priyo replied, unmoved. “By Friday.”
“Son,” he said. “Even in death, there is bureaucracy. Even in the afterlife, there is a chain of command. You wanted to escape the human world? Welcome to the next one. Same rules. Worse lighting.” hantu punya bos
The moan hesitated. Then it softened.
Mr. Priyo tapped a laser pointer. The red dot moved across the back wall. Several ghosts tried to catch it out of instinct. “You will fill out Form J-12,” Mr
Mr. Priyo set down his pen. He looked at the young spirit with something that might have been pity, or indigestion. “You will fill out Form J-12
He walked to the basement, where the collective moan of the Dutch colonial spirits had grown loud enough to rattle light fixtures.
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