"..."I ran out of stock around midnight and dropped by a place, got some Chinese." I hoped he meant takeout."

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When we die, these are the stories still on our lips. The stories we’ll only tell strangers, someplace private in the padded cell of midnight. These important stories, we rehearse them for years in our head but never tell. These stories are ghosts, bringing people back from the dead. Just for a moment. For a visit. Every story is a ghost.

— Chuck Palahniuk