Word count: 99
He comes here daily and sits in the same spot. He’s heard that there’s a spirit in this graveyard and he is determined to use whatever woo-woo he knows to banish it. Does he believe that the spirit is a sheer form, roaming predictably around decaying headstones? What an imbecile! He pays me no mind; believes I’m someone’s pet goat let loose. Ha! I am neither beast nor spirit! Look at my horns, see? I was thwarted once but now I am taking shape in this material world. Anyway, I have told you too much; you must be silenced.