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Eight I came home on Tuesday and found All of the chairs that I own stacked in A tower in the center of my kitchen I don't know how long they have been Like that but it can only be me that did It it's the kind of thing a ghost might Do to prove to the living that he is Still there I am haunting my own Apartment Nine my grandmother was still alive when I was five years old and she asked me to Check and see if the iron was hot enough Yet so I pressed my hand against it and It was red and screaming for hours 25 years later she would still sometimes Apologize in the middle of conversations I feel so bad about making you touch the Iron she'd say as though it had just Happened I cannot imagine how we forgive Ourselves for all the things we didn't Say until it was too late