I woke up at 4 am and saw the ghost of Miguel de Cervantes standing at the foot of my bed looking back at me.

Ghosts don’t sleep. I think when you’re dead you’re so relaxed that there’s no need for rest. The ease of the ghosts comes from knowing you can’t be killed. As humans we’re constantly over concerned that every little thing could kill us. That squirrel could chew out my neck. What if I swallowed my spoon? The sun could hiccup and reduce me to ash.

The wide awake Cervantes said, “I’m no beauty to the beholder’s eye, though the moon light renders me palatable.”

I love wit. I’m certain it’s better than Vitamin C.

I said, “Mount Parnassus once uttered to the Earth, ‘I hope I’m not crushing your leg.'”

Cervantes had no reaction. It’s so easy to feel like an idiot around your icons.

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