I See Dead People

I see dead people. They're everywhere. They don't know they're dead. They have poor dental hygiene...some of them wear wooden dentures, however they speak eloquently with almost foreign accents. The ideas they speak of seem foreign, yet hauntingly familiar.

They often appear to me on Sunday mornings, while perusing the Sunday morning paper. One of the more charming of these spirits appeared to me just this morning after reading this article.

He shook his head and told me, "Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both."

I see dead people. They're everywhere. They don't know that they, as well as their words, are dead.