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  • Writer's pictureJeff South

Cincinnati Chili: Ghost

Once, when he was very young, Grover thought he saw a ghost standing at the foot of his bed. It wasn’t what he had imagined a ghost would look like based on information collected from cartoons as the entity wasn’t wearing a sheet with the eyes cut out. What Grover saw was more of a shadowy figure with a clear human shape lingering in his room. He couldn’t discern a face, so he was unsure if the ghost was looking at him or away from him. He was also unsure which of the two would be more frightening. He was sure, however, that he was terrified beyond any comprehension. Every instinct inside him begged him to move, but he was frozen with fear. He opened his mouth to scream, but made no sound. His stomach flipped and flopped and his legs tingled. The ghost didn’t move for several seconds before simply fading away into the darkness of the room. It was the deepest terror he had ever felt.

Until now.

Grover Cleveland Alexander was in over his head and he knew it. Nothing in him believed this situation worked in his favor. He knew too much. Had seen too much. And now a possibly mad scientist on the payroll of mega conglomeration wanted to bring him deeper into the mire with a job she called a Product Integration Consultant.

Every instinct inside him begged him to stand up and walk out the door without ever looking back.

“Sure,” he said with a mouth void of moisture. “Sounds great.”

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