OCEANS.The moment she called the name, Nessa, every living cell in my body came alive.For a second, my mind drifted to a certain blonde-haired, dimpled, sweet-smelling woman from Minnesota, whose ghost still hunts me till today.Vanessa.I could swear I still see her sometimes, in random places that don't make sense.Once, about three years after she died, I thought I saw her in a grocery store.Of all places.One would think that if her ghost were ever to haunt me, it would be in some rain-dark street where such scenarios could be a bit more dramatic.But, a fucking grocery store?I had gone in because Harold had dragged me out of the office after forty-eight hours of work and told me I needed to eat something that had not been poured into a glass.I remembered standing near the checkout aisle, irritated by the music playing overhead, and even by the old woman counting coupons in front of me.Then I saw her.She was standing three aisles away, near the section with bottled water an
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