He was a mean man, and the house still echoed of his heavy step and crashing doors.

He was gone but she could still feel him.

She smelled his tequila breath and saw his holes kicked in the walls.

Her son came to her like many nights before.

"Mama, can we get them?"

They buckled in and went out for their drive.

He clutched his plastic wheel attached to the back of her seat, peeking over her shoulder to imitate her wrists.

They sped through low fog hovering just above the pavement.

It brushed against the car and disappeared into the night.

"Goodbye ghosts, don't haunt me in my dreams."

"Goodbye Ghost," she muttered. "Leave us in peace."