The ghost of Old Joe

(or better yet - a Christmas miracle)

Each one of us is an assemblage of tens of trillions of cells.

Each one of those cells is living matter; something that appears to be infinitesimally rare in our universe. 

We exist in a universe with laws of physics so finely tuned that it has given rise to beings (that would be us) intelligent enough to at least somewhat understand the very universe that gave us birth.

Each one of us is the very definition of the word “miracle.”

With all that in mind, and before readng another word, it must also be stated that I don’t believe in ghosts. (The reader will see shortly why such an adamant declaration is integral to the understanding of this particular story.)

When you’re dead, you’re dead. You don’t get a special ticket to wander around as a ghost, whatever the heck that is.

Now on with this (possible) ghost story: